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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836364">You and I were made of glass, we’d never last</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzackles/pseuds/linzackles'>linzackles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Happiness is a butterfly (I try to catch it, like, every night) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Girls (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - Past relationship, Angst, F/M, young Beth and Rio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzackles/pseuds/linzackles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“God, how long has it been? Ten years?”<br/>“Twelve. Three months.”<br/>“We should catch up,” she finds herself saying. “Grab a coffee.”<br/>“Yeah, I really don't wanna do that.”</p><p>OR</p><p>After their relationship reaches a devastating end, Beth and Rio run into each other twelve years later. And though they can't help being drawn to each other again, the demons of their past threaten to demolish them once more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beth Boland/Rio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Happiness is a butterfly (I try to catch it, like, every night) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>468</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story takes place over two timelines: the present, where Beth and Rio are a bit younger than (I guess!) they are in the show, about mid-30s. And then over a decade earlier, when they're in their early 20s. The past is all in italics.</p><p>Hope you enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beth finishes her dinner, washes her hands in the back then heads to the cash register at the arts and crafts store.</p><p>She can hear Lucy assisting someone and normally she gets people to buy, even if it's just because she won't stop talking or offering them things.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re happy with that one? We’ve got plenty more options. I think maybe—"</p><p>“Yeah, I'm real good, thanks, Lucy.”</p><p>Beth freezes.</p><p>That voice.</p><p>Oh, god. Oh, god, she could recognise it anywhere.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“Yo, scoot over.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth looks over from fiercely concentrating to glance at the guy beside her who had issued the demand like it’s his God-given right for her to give him a seat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s not even looking at her, eyes on the professor up front, but he’s the kind of good-looking that explains the attitude. </em>
</p><p>Hot people can do whatever they want<em>, her sister has pointed out on more than one occasion.  </em></p><p>
  <em>But there is space, so she moves over, half-heartedly shooting him a glare before re-focusing on the professor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s only been about five minutes, but he seems to have blown through his introduction to the class, launching into the pillars of small business management. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s just gotten back into what he’s saying when the guy next to her speaks again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can I get your notes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She turns back, in genuine awe at the man’s audacity. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She pulls her notebook closer to her body and lets her curtain of dyed-red hair fall over it too for good measure.</em>
</p><p><em>He heaves a huge sigh like </em>she’s <em>being the pain in the ass. </em></p><p>
  <em>But when she doesn’t relent, he studies her, considering. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I'll buy you lunch.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She scoffs as meanly as she can.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don't want to have lunch with you.”</em>
</p><p><em>She doesn't even want to be </em>sitting<em> next to him right now. He’s incredibly rude and presumptuous and she can barely hear what's happening up front.</em></p><p>
  <em>He looks at her like she's dense, squinting.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Naw<em>, like I'll buy you food.”</em></p><p>
  <em>And now she blushes because god, he'd obviously never been planning to eat it with her, why had she assumed that?</em>
</p><p><em>She wants to say no on instinct, but actually she </em>hadn't<em> known what she was going to have for lunch today – this week's lunch budget had gone towards medicine for Sadie's sudden cold. </em></p><p>
  <em>That's why she'd decided to take this course – it's only a community college one and honestly she hates it, but she figures she needs to have some entrepreneurial knowledge if she plans to turn her baking into an actual business. Maybe in a year or two she, Annie and a two-year-old won't have to share a one-bedroom apartment and still barely make rent every month.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Deciding not to say anything, she lets out a breath then slides her notebook over to him a little. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't make any sort of acknowledgement of this, like he hadn't expected a different response; like he always gets what he wants. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it's this that makes her take a second look at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He's incredibly wiry but it's like he has this kinetic energy stored up inside of him, ready to prowl; pounce. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His cheekbones are quite possibly the sharpest she's ever seen on a person, man or woman, and the five-o-clock shadow only enhances them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But, most prominently, there on his throat – a huge tattoo. A bird of prey of some kind, wings spread wide so that barely any part of his neck is untouched. She doesn't know how she hadn't noticed it before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But now that she's noticing, seeing him, she can't stop looking. There's something magnetic about him and it's not just how ridiculously attractive he is. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's several minutes later when she realises that she's still staring; that she hasn't heard a single thing that's been said. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s about to look away, blushing, when he suddenly looks at her, brow popped. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Want my notes?”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Her entire body feels paralysed.</p><p>Her lungs lose all oxygen as he steps into her line of sight.</p><p>God, he looks good. Not really different – not like her, who has doubled in size and learned to curl her now-blond hair – but mature. <em>He aged like a fine-ass wine</em>, she can already hear her sister saying.</p><p>He is <em>dressed</em> differently, though, in a fitted dark blue shirt buttoned all the way up and dark jeans. Back then he’d been in a hoodie more often than not; a leather jacket every now and then. He’s wearing a beanie, too, and—</p><p>He catches sight of her, finally, and for a second she feels dizzy, like the room is spinning around on itself.</p><p>Rarely is it possible to tell what he’s thinking, but now his surprise is so explicit that it shows all over his still-striking features.</p><p>Even his approach stutters before he eventually seems to recover, rolling his shoulders before coming over.</p><p>“Hi,” she smiles.</p><p>He places the card down on the counter between them.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“How are you?”</p><p>Her voice sounds strangled and she wishes she could do something about it, but it’s all she can do to even produce words.</p><p>He lets out a little breath through his nose.</p><p>“I'm good.”</p><p>He doesn’t return the question, it’s <em>him </em>after all, so she forces a light laugh.</p><p>“God, how long has it been? Ten years?”</p><p>“Twelve.” He blinks. “Three months.”</p><p>It makes her heart catch in her throat. She'd always told him that it was <em>really annoying</em> to have to take a business class with someone whose brain came with a pre-installed calculator. He’d always countered that she didn’t seem annoyed enough to refuse his help with her assignments.</p><p>“We should catch up,” she finds herself saying. “Grab a coffee.”</p><p>This is the <em>last</em> thing in the world she wants to do with him, but it slips off her lips because that's who she is now. Beth Boland does the polite, normal thing.</p><p>“Yeah, I really don't wanna do that.”</p><p>She sucks in a breath, followed immediately by hot pinpricks on the back of her neck.</p><p>She'd be embarrassed if she didn't know him as well as she does; didn’t know that <em>he </em>never does the polite, normal thing if he finds it inauthentic.</p><p>Still, she feels rejected somehow even though she didn't even want to go.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“What can I get?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Looking up at the menu, she notes the prices of everything. Her stomach grumbles at just the thought of all the options.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shrugs animatedly. “Whatever you want. Just get two.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Deciding he’s way too annoying to deserve her confirming if he’s sure, she moves forward to do just that – but he stops her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hold up. You ain't one of em salad bitches, are you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She stares.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I'm getting a burger. Extra fries. Might throw in a milkshake.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why not? He'd said whatever she wants.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Looking very pleased, he nods.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, yeah. Two.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She orders and then they gradually move forward in the line.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I'm Beth, by the way.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ok.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about you?”</em>
</p><p><em>“What </em>about<em> me?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“What's your name?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Thought you said you </em>didn't<em> wanna have lunch with me.”</em></p><p>
  <em>How is it possible that someone this annoying exists?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We're not having lunch,” she points out, explicitly irked. “We're waiting in a line and it's awkward if we don't say anything.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Feels fine to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She doesn't know how to respond to that and is still busy trying to work it out when suddenly they’re at the front of the line and their food is being handed to them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The total is pretty high – at least to Beth, who sees amounts in the number of diapers that could’ve been bought – and she expects him to present a card, but he pulls a roll of cash out of his pocket instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He slips a few notes from it then hands it over and Beth quickly averts her gaze when he catches her looking. The girl ringing up gives him an interested look, eyes flitting over his features not unlike Beth herself had done earlier, but he takes no note, politely thanking her then taking his change with no further eye contact. Had she been wrong? Does he actually have no idea about – or, at least, regard for – how attractive he is?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They get out of the line and Beth's scoping out a table when he speaks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A'ight.” His glance goes to the food in her hands. “Debt's paid?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's playful, teasing, and she smiles in spite of herself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just don't show up late again.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh huh.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He seems to be ready to go, but he hesitates for a second before twisting his body back to her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…It's Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She blinks.</em>
</p><p>Rio.</p><p>
  <em>It suits him, somehow. She likes it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“See ya,” he shrugs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And he's a few steps away when she finds herself calling out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stops. Looks around, brow raised.</em>
</p><p><em>“Do you </em>want<em> to have lunch with me?”</em></p><hr/><p>Ringing up the card, she swallows.</p><p>“Six dollars.”</p><p>He grabs a ten from his pocket and passes it to her. It's awkward.</p><p>Desperate, she looks at the card. What is he buying?</p><p>Her gaze goes to it, deliberate, so she can strike up some kind of conversation. That’s what she does with any normal customer.</p><p>But, oh no. It says <em>Thinking of you</em> with a teddy bear on it.</p><p>And now she's already drawn attention to herself staring at it.</p><p>Feeling forced to say something, she swallows.</p><p>“Lucky girl.”</p><p>“It's my niece,” he says coolly. “Laid up in the hospital; broken arm. Likes cheesy greeting cards.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>He has a niece now?</p><p>God, she feels just as stupid as she had all those years ago, thinking he’d wanted to take her to lunch. </p><p>Every time she's thought about them, lifted the scab for one painful moment, she'd convinced herself that she's no longer anything like that naïve little girl; that she'd just been too stupid and immature then. But now, graceless beneath his gaze, she feels instantly back there.</p><p>Deciding just not to say <em>any more words</em>, she makes his change then passes it over, fingers involuntarily brushing along the skin of his palm.</p><p>“Thank you for supporting local. We hope to have you back.”</p><p>She chokes out the last words because she thinks she'd rather die than re-live this experience, but he just nods, maybe vaguely amused, before moving off.</p><p>She lets out a breath of relief when he's almost to the door but then, two steps away, he stops.</p><p>She watches, dread in her throat, as his jaw rocks.</p><p>“Could do dinner. Tomorrow night.”</p><p>She blinks. Once, then twice.</p><p>And then, because she’s an idiot, Beth nods.</p><p>“Ok.”</p><p>“Cool, meet you here at seven.”</p><p>With that he's gone, the bell ringing on his way out.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>They have lunch together more often than not and he always somehow finds her in class; slides in next to her. </em>
</p><p><em>She starts keeping him a seat, saying </em>No, my friend’s coming <em>when someone tries to take it. </em></p><p>
  <em>She keeps expecting him to disappear as quickly as he’d appeared in her life, but he’s there for every class. Buys her lunch afterwards; insists on paying. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s weeks later when they’re finishing up the pizza they’d shared that she finally works up the courage to ask him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you do?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looks up, a smirk tugging at his lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I make money.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She sighs. “I’m serious.”</em>
</p><p><em>“What do </em>you think<em> I do?”</em></p><p>
  <em>The blush rises up from her chest to her cheeks and around her ears. He smiles watching her reaction and she thinks, for the millionth time, that she really likes his smile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then he jerks his chin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It bother you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know,” she blinks; gulps. “No.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe if they’d met some other way; maybe if he’d been walking down the street, she would’ve put distance between them. But now she already knows the affectionate way he talks about his sisters and how he’s always polite to any service staff (she’s heard enough stories from Annie about assholes at the store to appreciate this). She already knows what his thigh feels like pressed up against hers; the warmth of the pride she feels each day he chooses to sit beside her.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio nods slowly, pleased, then grabs the pizza box to discard it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clearing her throat, Beth gathers her books then follows him out of the café. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They walk in silence and it takes a minute for Beth to realise that he’s taking a different route than they normally do, leading her into one of the quieter buildings on campus. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s right about to ask when suddenly he comes to a stop and turns on her. Instinctively she backs up in the empty hallway. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His hand lands on her body, pushing her further back against the wall, and the way he's looking at her finally makes her realise what’s happening.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their eyes meet for just a second and then he’s kissing her, her gasp falling on his lips as his body presses into hers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s thought about this for weeks – fantasised an uncountable number of situations where and when he’d do it – but it’s still all a shock to her. She didn’t think he’d actually been attracted to her – surely he looks at all women like that? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But his body driving into hers says differently and her moan lets his tongue into her mouth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It takes them a few seconds to adjust to one another – she doesn’t exactly have much experience, especially not with men going as slowly as he currently is – but then they find a rhythm and it’s like their mouths were made for each other. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her books drop with a thud as she goes to wrap her arms around his neck, revelling in the press of his body against hers. Rio starts exploring her curves, hands gentle but firm, and she’s beginning to wonder whether they’re really going to do this in the middle of the hallway when he pulls away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t go far, though, breath falling on her lips as their eyes slowly open. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Damn, I been wantin to do that for weeks,” he murmurs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes widen as her mind fritzes but, somehow, she finds a response. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why didn’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He inclines his head so his nose brushes lightly against hers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“’Cuz I knew once I did, I wouldn’t be able to let you go.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She loses a breath but, right before she pulls him back to her lips, she breathes out a response. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then don’t.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>Beth’s still trying to process any of that – starting with what cruel trick of fate had brought him to her shop tonight – when Lucy comes bounding over to her.</p><p>“Did he seem happy?”</p><p>Beth blinks out of her reverie.</p><p>“…What?”</p><p>“With the card.”</p><p>Oh. She lets out a breath as the other woman keeps going.</p><p>“The teddy bear might be a bit insulting for a little girl and—"</p><p>“Lucy. He really liked it, trust me.”</p><p>She emphasises that a little too much – she supposes she’s always been a little proud of managing to get past his impenetrable exterior – and of course Lucy notices.</p><p>“Do you know him?”</p><p>God. How does she keep asking her these unanswerable questions?</p><p>“That wasn't the first time we met,” she nods diplomatically.</p><p>But it wouldn’t be Lucy if she didn’t keep going; keep prodding.</p><p>“He seemed nice. Big tattoo. But really nice, and not everyone’s nice, especially to me; I think they think I talk too much. How do you know him?”</p><p>Beth lets out a long breath, knowing revealing the truth is going to be the least painful avenue. Trying to deflect never works with Lucy.</p><p>“He’s my ex... actually.”</p><p>The label feels too simplistic, too facile to describe everything they’d been through but, technically, it’s the truth.</p><p>Lucy cocks her head, probably remembering the one or two times Dean had come into the store.</p><p>“Ex before your ex?”</p><p>“Before Dean,” she confirms with a nod. “Can you close up tonight?”</p><p>Two birds with one stone – she wants out of this conversation as badly as she wants to go home.</p><p>“I can. But what happened?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“With the nice tattooed ex. You’ve never mentioned him, not that you normally share a lot about yourself, but I respect that you’re really private, just like me. Why didn’t things work out?”</p><p>And wasn’t this supposed to be the less painful route? But instead she’s left feeling every single thing that the train smash of the end of their relationship had been.</p><p>And it takes everything in her not to break down as she answers.</p><p>“He hurt me in the worst way you can hurt someone.”</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Young Beth and Rio:</strong>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Would love to know if you'd want to read more of this!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow, I really wasn't expecting the overwhelming positive response! Thank you so much, it made me get this one together a lot faster :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Lunch?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth turns to regard Rio, moving out of the way of other students filing out of the class.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Lunch’ has become ten minutes of eating and half an hour of making out in the quietest spot she can find before he gets impatient and tugs her to his lips.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shakes her head. “I have to go... My sister has a shift.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He seems to consider this for a moment, sucking his lip into his mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then: “Can I come?”</em>
</p><p><em>He drives her there in his Lexus (which doesn’t seem like his – at least not </em>originally<em> his, but she doesn’t ask about it) and she gets more and more nervous as she leads him up to the shitty little apartment. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Just… it’s small.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please can we just go inside?” he groans, sick of all these disclaimers. "If my feet can’t fit in, I’ll do a handstand.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She glares and he chuckles as she unlocks the door. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’ve just made it inside, her not even getting a chance to clock his reaction, when her sister comes storming into the lounge. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You do realise I have a shift in, like, five minutes, right? How is it that you’re supposed to be the older responsible one but you can’t get here in time to look after the two-year-old? Was I supposed to leave Sadie with our pervy neighbour? Set up Pay-per-view on our non-existent TV?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth pays no attention to this because she’s earlier than she ever is thanks to Rio driving her here, and this mild level of freakout usually has to do with her having struggled to pick out an outfit. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Annie, this is Rio. Rio, my sister.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The younger Marks sister comes to a stop that wouldn’t be out of place accompanied by a skid noise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yo,” Rio holds up a hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Annie stares, blinking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just then Sadie comes ambling out of the room on two chubby legs and immediately hides behind Annie’s calves at the sight of a stranger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio gets down on his haunches and smiles sweetly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Heyyy. What’s your name?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fradie.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sadie? That’s a great name. Mine’s Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sadie grins in delight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wee-oh.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He nods, smiling. “That’s right.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sadie points a stubby finger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bird.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grinning, Rio lifts his chin a little more so his tattoo is even more visible. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You wanna touch it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“B, can I talk to you for a sec?” Annie suddenly asks, shrilly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth’s about to decline but then her sister’s dragging her by way of an arm pinch, and she’s forced into the small bedroom with her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why did you bring a gangbanger home?!” she whisper-shouts.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don't call him that!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, I'm sorry, is there another reason someone gets a giant throat tattoo??” Before Beth gets a chance to answer, Annie takes a peek out and gasps. “They’re having a full conversation! My two-year-old is alone with a gangbanger and they’re having a conversation!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You're the one who pulled me in here.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Why did you bring him here?” Her eyes narrow before suddenly widening: “Oh. My. God. Is </em>he<em> the guy you're seeing??”</em></p><p>
  <em>Beth pinks.</em>
</p><p><em>“We're not </em>seeing<em> each other.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“We are doing hours of interrogation about this – after my shift. How long is he staying for?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d asked him in the car why he’d wanted to come and he’d shrugged and said he just didn’t want to say goodbye to her yet. She’d been blushing too hard to ask any follow-up questions.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, if you have sex while you’re looking after my child, I will put Nair in your shampoo.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth gasps, horrified by both parts of this, and Annie grins in triumph before grabbing her bag.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s rooted to her spot by just the thought of sex with Rio and it’s all she can do to watch as her sister breezes by him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nice to meet you. We don’t have any money in the house and Beth’s really good with a baseball club.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>A sleek black car pulls up outside and Beth swallows hard before gathering her things.</p><p>“Bye, Lucy.”</p><p>“Have fun!”</p><p>Doubtful. But she returns the grin then heads out, the bell jingling above her head.</p><p>Her dress swishes along the walkway as she heads out to the car. She’d had two options tonight: something florally and fun or this sleeved black dress. She’d wanted to opt for florally based solely on it having far less cleavage but, thinking of his wardrobe palette yesterday, she’d gone for black instead. The purse she has a death grip on is black too, a patent leather, and she’s wearing her gold bar necklace.</p><p>It’s a really nice car, she thinks, stepping closer as it unlocks.</p><p>Clearing her throat, she climbs in as gracefully as possible, not meeting his eyes till she’s all the way in.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>He’s not wearing a beanie tonight and her eyes take him in hungrily, cataloguing everything similar; everything new.</p><p>But then he’s starting the car, pulling away, and she shifts her purse in her lap nervously.</p><p>She’s surprised when he speaks.</p><p>“You cut your hair.”</p><p>She wonders why he hadn’t said anything about this yesterday, not to mention the fact that it’s a whole different colour. She knows he’d noticed – back then she would trim her hair an inch and he’d ask about it.</p><p>But she doesn’t verbalise any of this.</p><p>“About five years ago.”</p><p>“I like it.”</p><p>She knows he doesn't want thanks – that he hates formalities – but she doesn't know what else to say.</p><p>There is so much between them and he's ten times more guarded than he'd already been then.</p><p>Swallowing, she finds words.</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>They’re heading towards the Eastern Market District, but that could mean anything.</p><p>“You'll see when we get there,” he shrugs.</p><p>And now she doesn't know how they'd ever had discussions, long ones, sometimes late into the night.</p><p>She'd curl into his body and he'd tell her stories about his family that he'd embellish to the point of absurdity until her stomach hurt of giggling. And, nightly, they'd talk about the future. What they wanted from life. His dreams always huge and specific; hers grounded and vaguer.</p><p>All she'd really wanted was a life for her sister and niece; a life they loved and a home they could be proud of. Her own bedroom.</p><p>And suddenly she remembers —</p><p>
  <em>I want a real dope car.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like a Porsche?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nah, that's for assholes. Sum'n that feels like I made it, y'know? Cadillac, maybe. </em>
</p><p>She looks around the car with a breath and, as if he can read her mind, he speaks.</p><p>“How long you been workin at that store?”</p><p>God.</p><p>Him, with his Cadillac. Her with nothing to show for the past twelve years but a slightly-above-minimum-wage job.</p><p>“Not too long. A year.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“I like it,” she says, defensive in spite of herself. “It's quiet and I get to craft.”</p><p>“You still bake?” he asks, casting a sidelong look at her.</p><p>She feels the back of her neck prick hotly.</p><p>
  <em>A catering business.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Naw.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Think bigger – we headed for the big leagues, mami.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't want to dream something that'll never come true.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can do anythin in this world you wanna do, Elizabeth. So tell me whatchu really want.</em>
</p><p><em>God, </em>ok<em>. To open my own bakery. </em></p><p>
  <em>Just one?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ok, fine, a whole bunch of them! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That's what I'm talkin about.</em>
</p><p>“No,” she says shortly.</p><p>And he looks at her, she feels it, but he lets it go.</p><p>“That's too bad. What's up wit’ your crazy sister?”</p><p>“Still crazy,” she answers with a small laugh, relieved by the change of topic.</p><p>“Sadie?”</p><p>“He's fifteen. Transitioning.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>“What <em>about</em> me?”</p><p>How had she ever cracked through his shell; what had made her persist?</p><p>“What’s new?” she presses. “You mentioned you have a niece?”</p><p>He nods. “Carmela.”</p><p>“Gabby’s?”</p><p>He nods at the mention of his sister.</p><p>“How old is she?”</p><p>“Eight.”</p><p>“Gabby only had the one?”</p><p>“Naw, two. Kyle’s five.”</p><p>She bites at the inside of her cheek. She wants desperately to know whether <em>he </em>has any kids – surely he does?</p><p>But she can’t ask this, so she finds an alternative.</p><p>“You must be a great uncle.”</p><p>“There anythin I ain’t great at?”</p><p>He looks at her and his eyes gleam with amusement. She rolls her eyes and they share a smile and finally, <em>finally</em>, the ice seems to break.</p><p>And now she remembers why she'd persisted: it's worth it. He always makes it worth it.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>They’re making out in a deserted classroom, each of them in their own chair behind a desk, but she’s halfway onto his lap. </em>
</p><p><em>And the thing is – with her leg between both of his, she can… </em>feel <em>him. </em></p><p>
  <em>She pulls away breathily to regard him, head cocked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh huh?” he frowns, not looking too happy at her having ended the kiss. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do you— Do I—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you want— Are we—” She clears her throat. “I just… want to know if—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I swear to god, Elizabeth, if you don’t finish a sentence.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you interested in having sex?” she blurts. “With me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now Rio looks very confused, which is… better than disgusted, but still not exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re joking, right?” Before she can respond: “All I think about is fucking you, mami.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Would take you right now if I could.”</em>
</p><p>Could<em>? Why could? And why have they waited this long if he’s supposedly always thinking about it?</em></p><p>
  <em>Oh. Oh, no.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve had sex before,” she says, more than a little stroppy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He watches her, eyes half-closed as he analyses and considers her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That right?”</em>
</p><p><em>God. He’d really thought she was a virgin; that </em>she <em>was the one who’d wanted to wait. And not that she’s had </em>tons <em>of sex, he’d kind of read that right, but she doesn’t want to wait anymore.</em></p><p>
  <em>“I want to now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Ya do?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She does. More than anything. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And in all the time they’ve been in here, no one ever comes inside. They should be safe and, honestly, right now she doesn’t even care if they are or not. She just wants him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shoots a look towards the door then runs his eyes over her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Get up on the desk.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Swallowing, she does as he says, parting her knees just the tiniest bit. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it’s not enough for him, he immediately splays them, force gentle but firm. Then he pulls her closer and before she can draw a breath, he’s darting underneath her dress, breath warm between her thighs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Freezing, she pinks. </em>
</p><p><em>“I haven’t… </em>done this<em> before,” she admits. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Just relax.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shivers as she feels him push her panties away and then suddenly his mouth is on her and she whimpers, further gone than she’d even thought she was. He moans out an expletive as he finds out the same. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Leaning further back, she presses her palms into the desk until it’s shaking beneath her as her hips rise to meet his face and she’s so close when, impulsively, she pushes him away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio backs up, licking his lips, then looks at the small glass portion of the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“C’mon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He grabs her hand and pulls her off the desk like she weighs nothing then settles them in a corner of the room you’d have to come inside to see. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls a foil wrapper from his pocket then they work at his pants together. They get his jeans and underwear down and then she’s impatient watching him. God, she wants him so bad and seeing him focus on the same thing she needs inside her isn’t exactly helping. But she lets him finish with the condom, pressing back into the wall then shimmying off her panties till they fall at her ankles.</em>
</p><p><em>When he’s done, he pulls her dress and bra down, burying his face into her chest. But she can </em>feel <em>him, and she moans out a complaint that makes him reach for her thighs and lift her legs up around his waist. She wraps her arms around him too and he kisses at her neck.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Tell me whatchu like, yeah?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She agrees and then her fingernails dig into the back of his neck as he slowly presses closer, deeper. He sucks at the line of her throat as her breaths stutter, eyes drawing closed.</em>
</p><hr/><p>He leads her into a private elevator and Beth swallows.</p><p>The building had been gorgeous and the details in the elevator are all burnished gold. Everything feels luxurious, making her glad she’d dressed up.</p><p>The elevator comes to a stop on the top floor and Beth gasps when it opens into a giant penthouse with an unending view of the city.</p><p>Her eyes meet his and he holds out his hand for her to go first.</p><p>She takes a tentative step out, admiring the modern finishes; the gleaming surfaces that Detroit’s lights seem to sparkle off of.</p><p>“This is your place?”</p><p>“For the week.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“You’re leaving?”</p><p>“Uh huh.”</p><p>He starts heading further in and Beth follows a step behind, unsuccessfully trying to read his tone.</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Tomorrow night.”</p><p>
  <em>Where to? </em>
</p><p>But she feels like she’s already asked too many follow-up questions. Feels like maybe it’s none of her business.</p><p>They come to a stop in the open-plan kitchen and Rio looks at her.</p><p>“You want a drink?”</p><p>She nods. “Yeah.”</p><p>But for the first time in twelve years they’re thrown into full lighting together and he seems to hesitate, taking her in slowly, and she takes the opportunity to do the same.</p><p>He’s in black jeans tonight and a maroon shirt, and there are rings on his fingers, a mix of black and copper bands. There isn’t one to indicate he’s married, though, which she finds oddly relieving.</p><p>Why does that matter? It shouldn't.</p><p>Her eyes flit back up to his and she sees the age there; the time. There are more freckles dusted over his cheeks and his beard is a little longer but more groomed. He has frown lines now, too; eye crinkles and laugh lines.</p><p>She wonders if he’s noting all the changes on her, too. She’s at least doubled in size since her twenties, and she’s about to fold her arms over herself insecurely when his gaze goes down in a way he doesn’t even try to hide.</p><p>She blushes because yes, <em>those</em> had doubled in size too, and now she can’t stop remembering all the attention he’d always paid to them; the way he’d take them into his huge hands or burning mouth.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>They trip over each other's feet as they kiss their way into her apartment, Rio closing the door behind him with one hand as the other works at undoing the buttons on her top.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She'd waited for him outside class today and before he could say anything to accompany his raised brow, she'd pulled him to her and suggested they skip it; that her place was free. </em>
</p><p><em>She hasn't been able to get the other day out of her mind, hadn't been able to conceive of sitting </em>beside<em> him trying to concentrate for an hour when all she wants is to be </em>on top of him<em>.</em></p><p>
  <em>They make it into the kitchen and he presses her against the counter as he starts undoing his jeans. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not here,” she says, breathily, shaking her head.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don't make me wait, mami, you drive me crazy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She knows the feeling. She’d had a whole plan: she’d pour him some of Annie’s vodka and then she’d go down on him, just like he had for her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then she’d slowly undress, reveal her body to him and watch his eyes, before they’d have sex in her bed, where fresh sheets are laid out. She wants to see him in her bed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But all of that had disappeared into his ravenous mouth and searing hands, driving her insane, and now she at least wants the last part.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bedroom,” she moans as he slips off her panties. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck,” he complains into her neck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then he kicks off his jeans and shoes and grabs her hand, tugging her into the room that’s just a few steps away but feels like a cross-country trek by the time they make it there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What else you want?” he asks, gaze taking her in then sticking between her legs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Lie down,” she breathes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He licks a line across his lip then does as she says, losing his top before settling on his back and staring at her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She must look ridiculous – straggly hair and cheap bra; naked from the waist down. But he’s looking at her with a want in his eyes that makes her body burn even hotter than it already was. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She goes to settle over him and he helps her, spreading her legs over him so he’s brushing against her and they’re both moaning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then he leans forward to undo her bra and her breasts fall heavy. </em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Fuck<em>,” he hisses, eyes wide. </em></p><p>
  <em>He takes both into his hands then leans into her ear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Make em bounce for me.”</em>
</p><hr/><p>“You look good.”</p><p>She swallows. “Thank you. So do you.”</p><p>He hums his acknowledgement before turning away to make her drink, bringing out an expensive-looking bottle of bourbon then ice.</p><p>The bottle is full and she wonders if he’d bought it just for her. It had been her favourite thing to order on their dates when money had been good.</p><p>“Why are you only in town for the week?”</p><p>She feels comfortable asking this now with his attention on something else, and he shrugs.</p><p>“Always comin and going. That’s life.”</p><p>“For work?”</p><p>His eyes meet hers, fast and flinty, before going back to what he’s doing.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I always knew you’d get everything you dreamed about,” she says honestly, looking around the penthouse. “You were made for this.”</p><p>Do the words make him uncomfortable? She’s not sure. She only knows that he doesn’t meet her eyes as he passes her the drink then turns away.</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>“What <em>about </em>me?” she shoots.</p><p>He laughs a little.</p><p>“Fill me in.”</p><p>“What do you want to know?”</p><p>“You married?”</p><p>She watches him bend down to open the oven, which she notices for the first time is on some kind of warming setting.</p><p>“Divorced,” she shakes her head.</p><p>“Oh, yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”</p><p>Lucky because he’d gotten to marry her or lucky because they’re now divorced?</p><p>She tries to figure this out, but his back gives her nothing as he starts pulling food out of the oven: beef Wellington, green beans, roast veg.</p><p>“Um… I’m Beth Boland now.”</p><p>Now he turns to her, brow raised.</p><p>“Carman, huh?”</p><p>And all their arguments about Dean suddenly hit her like a truck.</p><p>
  <em>So why’s he fuckin calling you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know! He said it was just to catch up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now he wants to meet, huh?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why are you being this way? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>’Cuz I know men and, darlin, he wants you back on his dick.</em>
</p><p><em>Rio, I swear to god, I couldn’t be </em>less <em>interested in Dean fucking Boland.</em></p><p>Biting at her lip, she moves her gaze to the spread, desperate to change the topic.</p><p>“You cook now?”</p><p>The surprise in her tone is obvious and he scoffs.</p><p>“I <em>order in</em> now.”</p><p>She giggles and he grins before turning back to all the food.</p><p>She regards it all with a frown.</p><p>“We couldn’t just go to a restaurant?”</p><p>He shakes his head. “I don’t eat out much.”</p><p>And there’s something to his tone…</p><p>“Is it too dangerous?”</p><p>Her eyes dart down and, <em>yes</em>. There’s a bump under the line of his shirt, something tucked into his waistband. The anxiety that bubbles up into her throat is so goddamn familiar, it chokes her up for long enough to make her feel like she's drowning.</p><p>“Sum’n like that,” he shrugs it off.</p><p>And again she looks around. It’s a gorgeous space, but it’s devoid of anything even slightly personal even though he’s been here for a week. He’ll be catching a flight, soon, and then probably another soon after that.</p><p>“It must be lonely.”</p><p>He doesn’t reply to this, adding some sort of garnish onto the beans, and she feels a deep pang inside herself that she can’t name.</p><p>“Have <em>you </em>been married?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>And there’s that same relief, along with a question: <em>Why not?</em></p><p>“Kids?”</p><p>“Nope.” Then, before she can ask anything else: “What happened wit’ carman?”</p><p>God.</p><p>“Depends who you ask. I’d say he let four different women sit on his penis; he’d say I didn’t want children.”</p><p>Their eyes meet for a long moment before he looks away, sniffing out a humourless laugh.</p><p>“Piece o’ shit.”</p><p>She nods. “He was.”</p><p>And nothing about Dean’s cheating has ever made her think of Rio, but now it does. She remembers the devotion he’d always treated her with, the way he’d barely glance at other women. He’d only ever had eyes for her and she’d felt it, the weight of his commitment. Like a warm blanket she could wrap herself in. Maybe that’s why she’d been so trusting with Dean; hadn’t seen it coming. Because she’d never had a reason for distrust before. Not though he’d work late into the night, not though all his boys had had three different girlfriends each.</p><p>“Was it a coincidence?” she asks, trying to change the subject again. “Coming into my store last night?”</p><p>“What, you think I tracked you down?” He says this with some amusement before jerking his chin at the small table he’d set. “C’mon, let’s eat.”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“I wanna take you someplace tonight.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That’s how they end up at the bar, her in an outfit that’s completely unlike her. Tight jeans and Annie’s leather jacket. She’d wanted to look like she belonged at a bar with him and her pastel t-shirts and washed out jeans hadn’t seemed right. </em>
</p><p><em>None of her sister’s tops had fit around her boobs, though, so she’d resorted to a silk camisole that </em>kind of<em> passes for outerwear in the dark. </em></p><p>
  <em>The whole look had made Rio’s jaw slacken when he’d come to pick her up and he hasn’t taken his eyes off her since. She can feel it even now, when she isn't meeting his gaze, and it warms her up inside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re having drinks at the bar before they get a table and Rio sets his down to lean closer to her, pressing away her hair to whisper into her ear.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You look so damn good, mami.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His hand goes to her thigh, too high up, and Beth lets out a breath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stop,” she blushes. “People are looking.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, ’cuz they all wanna be the one touching you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And even though that’s definitely not the case, it makes her eyes flutter closed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re turning me on,” she says under her breath. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His grip on her tightens, fingers digging in. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” she sighs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good. I wanna take you into the bathroom and get you moaning in my ear.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes snap open, the reality of the moment coming back. She blushes as she takes in everyone in the bar. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But he seems serious, rubbing a circle into her inner thigh that’s driving her crazy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“C-could we do that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now he pulls back, brow raised. </em>
</p><p><em>“You wit’ </em>me<em>, mami. You can do anything.”</em></p><p>
  <em>And the crazy thing is, he's not wrong.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So, eyes on his, she jumps down from her stool. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She hears the clicks of her heels like a drumbeat in her ears as she heads to the bathroom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s barely put her purse down before he’s inside with her and he leans back against the door with a heat in his eyes that she feels in her body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And, pressing her body to his, she turns the lock on the door.</em>
</p><hr/><p>The food is fantastic.</p><p>For a while they just talk about it and the restaurant he’d ordered from.</p><p>He pours them both red wine and that looks fancy, too. Everything about his life seems exactly like he’d wanted it and that lashes a wound deep within her.</p><p>But she smiles.</p><p>“I’m really glad you’re happy, Rio.”</p><p>He watches her. She wonders if he’s trying to figure out if she’s being sincere or not. Which would be a feat, because not even <em>she’s </em>sure.</p><p>“Uh huh.”</p><p>He shifts in his chair then re-focuses on eating and she feels unsteady. Why are they here; doing this?</p><p>
  <em>We should catch up.</em>
</p><p>Right, ok. Catch up, reminisce about the old days. The ones that don’t hurt. She can do that. Just another half an hour and she can reasonably excuse herself and say it’s time to get home; call an Uber.</p><p>“Hey, remember those crazy assignments Professor Kline always gave us?”</p><p>He looks up with a smile that’s not his brightest, but he's trying. </p><p>“That guy had some screws loose, man.”</p><p>She laughs. “Like ‘A serial killer could, if you think about it, be a lucrative profession’. Ok, crazy person?”</p><p>He chuckles. “’Member that kid who would sit in the front row and question <em>everything</em>?”</p><p>“Yes! He asked whether selling body parts was the lucrative part, or if it was the deceased person’s possessions.”</p><p>“And Kline answered it, dead serious.”</p><p>“Organs on the black market. The more you know.”</p><p>“That guy could turn anything into a business proposal,” he shakes his head, amused.</p><p>“I know, it was almost impressive.”</p><p>“He liked you.”</p><p>He says this with something in his voice that she can’t read.</p><p>“Well, all the gross professors did,” she shrugs.</p><p>He snickers. “That’s true.”</p><p>“The burden of having DDs since high school.”</p><p>“Hmm,” he smiles, a thoughtful finger on his lip. Then: “’Member that place where you bought your bras?”</p><p>“Oh my god, the three-for-five-dollars place?!”</p><p>“That place was nasty.”</p><p>“Why did it smell like onions <em>all the time</em>??”</p><p>“Someone was sellin em outta their trunk, I swear to god.”</p><p>“Probably Professor Kline.”</p><p>They laugh about this for a long time, Beth remembering how good it feels to laugh with him, until finally silence settles again.</p><p>“I go to this boutique now,” she says, for something to say. “They custom-make them for you.”</p><p>She’d be lying if she said that the way his glance goes to her – substantial and thoroughly supported – cleavage had been completely unintended.</p><p>“Movin up in the world, huh?”</p><p>She flushes. “Well. Nothing like you.”</p><p>She gestures around the room and his gaze goes to take it all in.</p><p>His lips are pursed when his eyes come back to her and she clears her throat, searching for another memory.</p><p>“Remember when Annie's horrible boss was giving her trouble and you pretended to be her boyfriend and went and scared him straight?”</p><p>That summer, the Marks sisters had discovered that knowing someone with a neck tattoo and a terrifying resting face has a surprising number of perks. People letting you go ahead of them in the line at the movies. Tellers at the bank being more accommodating. The landlord not banging on your door if the rent is late.</p><p>“Yeah, the store manager, right? Sum'n with a B?”</p><p>“Boomer,” she nods, then smiles a little. “To this day, he doesn't mess with her.”</p><p>“She stills works there, huh?”</p><p>She’s about to ruffle at this, defend her sister, when he continues.</p><p>“I should pop by. Buy a candy bar.”</p><p>She finds herself smiling. “God, she’d love to see you.”</p><p>Strangely, this makes all mirth drop from his face as his fingers and gaze go pensively to his wine glass.</p><p>After a moment that seems to stretch forever, he finally speaks.</p><p>“She left me messages every day that first month. You know about that?”</p><p>Now he looks up to meet her eyes as she gasps.</p><p>“No! What did she say?”</p><p>He shrugs and for a second she thinks he won’t tell her, but then he does.</p><p>“That you didn’t mean none of it, that people get through shit like this all the time, that I was a coward, that you’d cried all night again.”</p><p>Beth feels a thousand things – betrayed by her sister, hurt that he hadn’t responded to any of those messages, bitter regret for all the ways things could’ve gone differently.</p><p>But, most of all, she feels tiny. Tiny and stupid, like the room is growing in size and she’s shrinking and everything in the world has nothing to do with her. That everyone knows more than she does, that every choice she’d made was insignificant, that he looms with the world and she’s a mere dot in it all.</p><p>“Where’s the bathroom?”</p><p>“Down the hall to the left.”</p><p>She scrambles out of her chair without looking up, eyes on her feet as she follows his directions.</p><p>The first thing she sees is his bed, a duffel bag at the end of it, and then she catches sight of the en suite off to the left.</p><p>The door is heavy, shutting with barely a sound behind her, and the bathroom is obviously huge and gorgeous. Every finish you can think of. A mirror so clean, the resentment in her eyes is crisp.</p><p>Inside her, the hurt is rotten with age, and it aches. She thought it had healed, but no, it had just laid dormant till it could meet its maker.</p><p>As if summoned, he knocks on the door, and she lays her head in her hands because, god, could this get any worse? How had she trapped herself in this situation?</p><p>How does he always trap her between heaven and hell?</p><p>“Can I come in?” he asks softly.</p><p>She wants to say no but she can’t speak, throat closed up.</p><p>There’s the soft brush of the door opening and closing and then his clean scent filling the room.</p><p>When she eventually manages to get her face out of her hands, she finds him close to her, leaning back against the marble countertop.</p><p>He doesn’t meet her eyes when he speaks.</p><p>“So I seem happy to you, huh?" A pause. "Guess that means I got everyone good and fooled.”</p><p>She swallows. “You’re not happy?”</p><p>He shakes his head.</p><p>“Not even a lil bit.”</p><p>She looks at the clean mirror, the shiny marble, the perfectly placed fresh towels.</p><p>“But… but this is the life you always dreamed about.”</p><p>“That’s just it.”</p><p>He draws a long breath and then, finally, his eyes meet hers.</p><p>“’Cuz I got all this, everythin I ever wanted, and it still feels like nothin without you.”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“You get my text?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She looks up from the couch to see him entering her apartment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls a face, looking over her t-shirt and pajama pants.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t look ready, though. C’mon, we gotta go celebrate.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God, he looks so happy. How is she going to tell him this?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why are we celebrating?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Got news for you,” he grins. “Real good news.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I've got news, too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her stomach flip-flops around itself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah? Is it good?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It's... news.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She swallows hard and finally his elated mood seems to dampen for long enough to take in her expression and general demeanour. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s hunched over herself with something akin to anguish on her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You wanna go first?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Not really.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A'ight,” he shrugs. “So I was talkin to Demon and we figure it's time, now or never, we can break off and—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I'm pregnant.”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gah, you guys make me so happy, thank you so much for your feedback!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"I'm pregnant."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth swallows hard before shaking her head.</em>
</p><p><em>“I don’t know how, we were so careful. But, god, Annie says there’s a reason they never say 100% effective and that your sperm is probably as strong-willed as you are, which is stupid, I know, but I took three different tests and Annie says you just </em>know, <em>you can feel it somehow,</em> <em>and— Please say something.”</em></p><p>
  <em>He’s just standing there, staring. Frozen in shock.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s been babbling to try and ignore the rock in her stomach, but now she can’t handle it anymore, she has to know how upset he is. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All the dreams he’d had; the life he’d planned out. None of it had included a child this early. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then a grin breaks out, delight spreading across his features.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I wanna be a dad so fuckin bad.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She blinks back at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...Is he really happy, or just trying to prevent her from freaking out further?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rio—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I mean, assuming you gonna keep it,” he gestures. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s a forced air of nonchalance about him now, like he’s finally catching up to her mood and adjusting accordingly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The thing is, right now she needs him to tell her how to feel, not the other way around. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you want me to?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looks off, as if searching for the right words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then he comes closer, shoulders jerking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s your body and whatnot.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, but—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I know you ain’t exactly thrilled ’bout the choices your sister made way back when.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God, of course he knows that. How many times has he had to listen to her vent about the way Annie had thrown her life away? The tough financial decisions she has to make weekly to account for a two-year-old? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She’s the first person I called.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And she came over and we took the other two tests together, and then she said if other people can do this, I can do this.”</em>
</p><p>More importantly, if <em>I </em>could do it, you can do it. And you know how I know that?</p><p>How?</p><p>Because you’re the reason I could do it.</p><p>
  <em>“That help?” he asks, still slowly getting closer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Closing her eyes, she shakes her head.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I cried for an hour.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She feels his hand on her shoulder, strong and firm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why didn’t you call me, baby?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She presses her eyes closed harder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Annie said Gregg freaked and didn’t know how to look at her or talk to her for a week.” She opens her eyes to look up at him. “But she also said you aren’t Gregg.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio smiles softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That crazy-ass sister of yours got some sense in her head sometimes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smiles a little and places a hand atop his then rests her head against it as he sits down next to her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“C’mere,” he says softly, turning her body to  his. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His hand is on her face now, forcing her to look at him, and she blinks insecurely. </em>
</p><p><em>“Do </em>you <em>wanna keep it?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You do know. You know what you wanna cook for dinner when you wake up in the morning.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shoots him a glare but he only grins before his smile softens. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“C’mon,” he prods her a little. “Think of it like this, yeah? No Sadie to look out for, no me to think about – whatchu doin?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth nibbles on her lip for a long moment, overwhelmed by the urge to cry again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I want to keep it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And the relief that floods his face – it’s real. It’s real and it warms her everywhere. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wants this as much as she does. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His lips hit hers for a quick elated moment. Then, gently, he presses their foreheads together. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You make me so damn happy, Elizabeth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A smile stutters onto her face too as her fingers slip past his jacket to sink into his hoodie, keeping him to her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s just so scary,” she whispers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I don’t know if I’m ready.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know. But we can do it together, though. I’m always tellin you that, right? There’s nothin we can’t do when we together, mami.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that’s true. If there’s anyone in this world she’d go into battle with, it’s him. He'd protect her every step of the way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ok,” she nods. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls away a little to regard her, caressing her cheek.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you, Elizabeth. And Imma love the hell out of our kid too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The gasp barely makes it past her lips, snuffed out by the shock itself, but there’s nothing to stop the blush from rising. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s never told her he loves her before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio looks very amused, brushing a light finger along the spreading heat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“’Specially if she gets all red across the cheeks like her ma.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And this – thank god – distracts her.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>She<em>?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Whatchu want, a boy?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don't know; maybe.” Then, thinking about it: “We don't have good girl names in my family.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Don't I know it, </em>Irene<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Gasping, she shoves at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shut up!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He laughs for a while before getting thoughtful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Y'know I always kinda wanted to name one o’ my kids Marcus. Was my Pops’ middle name.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I like Marcus.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” she nods, unable to contain her own smile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somehow – somehow – naming him, imagining him, makes it all less scary. </em>
</p><p><em>Maybe it being </em>real<em> should be the scary part, but this nameless faceless irreversible </em>thing<em> inside her that could ruin everything – that could’ve ruined </em>them <em>– had been far more terrifying.</em></p><p>
  <em>Now, in her mind, he’s a real person. </em>
</p><p>Marcus<em>.</em></p><p>
  <em>Rio’s hand becomes a little less caressing and a little more firm, moving down to her neck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where’s your sister at?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Spending the night at Ruby’s. She said we need time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmm,” he hums. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then he kisses her. She gets knocked back a little by the surprise of it and then she presses forward, anchors her own hands in his neck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She still can’t believe this is happening. He’s not upset or disappointed or horrified. He still wants her, and he wants this and—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She moans as he wraps a hand around her breast, her fingers going to his pants. They get it off him, followed quickly by her pajama pants, and then she moves half onto his lap, beginning to shove off the multiple layers he’s wearing for wherever they were supposed to go to celebrate tonight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lets out a little breath as he brushes against her, making her speed up undoing the zipper on his hoodie. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We don’t need a condom,” she teases against the corner of his lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He breathes out a laugh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s right, we don’t.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally getting him naked, she kisses at his neck then his shoulder; the firmness of his chest. She licks up against his tattoo and Rio moans loud and long. Then she nibbles at his neck and his fingers dart between her legs; his breaths heavy in her ear.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You ready for me, c’mon,” he complains. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You never let me just kiss you,” she complains right back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s ’cuz you make me lose my damn mind.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Meeting his eyes, she sees the fire there; the restraint in his jaw. So, loping both arms around his neck, she gets up on top of him properly and he helps steady her before she slowly lowers down onto him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They both moan at the feeling, the first time they’ve ever gone without protection. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s overwhelming how good he feels, Beth can barely breathe. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck, I ain’t gon’ last long,” he groans.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Me neither.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it is just a few minutes later when they finish recovering from their orgasms and clean themselves up. Then they settle back on the couch, laying down, Rio pulling her nearly all the way onto him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>For a while they’re quiet and it’s all Beth can do to revel in the feeling of his body underneath hers, warm and solid. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then she feels his palm go to her stomach, fingers brushing over. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck, I can't believe there's a baby in there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She can’t believe he’s thinking about it, amazed by it. </em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Your<em> baby.” </em></p><p><em>There’s a part of him inside her, growing every moment. And yes, maybe she </em>does<em> want a boy. One who looks exactly like him, with an infectious dimpled smile.</em></p><p><em>“</em>Our baby<em>,” he corrects, then whistles. “Shit.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Twisting up her neck, she looks at him curiously.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You're really happy?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This is the best day of my life, mami. F'real.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She watches him for a long moment, feeling something in her chest that threatens to burst. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then she kisses him, long and slow. </em>
</p><p><em>Both their eyes take a moment to flutter open when she pulls away, and she can’t seem to come to grips with how </em>right <em>everything about this moment feels.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Now you can’t go anywhere.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s supposed to be teasing but, like usual, he sees right through her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Who said I was goin someplace?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth clears her throat awkwardly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know. I guess it’s a fear I’ve had since we met.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I seem like some kinda flake?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s just that… my dad left.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sighs, sympathy tucked into the corners of his eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And you make me happy. And it feels like there’s a time limit on that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shakes his head firmly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’d never leave my kid.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I’ll never stop makin you happy, Elizabeth. I already got it all planned out, everythin.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smiles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know you do.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It makes her feel so safe, so secure, every time he talks about their future. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ten years from now it’s gonna be the two of us at the top together. That’s it. You’re my future.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth blinks rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it’s useless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So instead she raises herself up a little to look down at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too, Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His smile is soft, affected, and he runs a thumb over the top of her cheek before bringing her back against him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s a minute before he speaks again, voice full.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Imma get us a place, somewhere that the sun floods in in the mornin, just like you like. With a huge kitchen. A room for the kids.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s smiling, even though—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How are we gonna pay for all of that?”</em>
</p><p><em>“My news, 'member? It's time. Goin off on my own,” he say confidently, shrugging his free shoulder. “We gon' be rollin in it, mami. You gonna roll up to class in Gucci. And there ain’t no more bus for you, neither. It’s chauffeur rides now, wit’ one of em lil white men with a British accent. He gonna call you </em>ma’am <em>and get all pale when we wanna fuck in the backseat. I’ll tell him to chill and go re-arrange my sneaker closet.”</em></p><p>
  <em>She giggles high and long and he doesn’t stop, getting more and more ludicrous until they’re both in stitches.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And the whole time, the whole time, he keeps his hand on her stomach.</em>
</p><hr/><p>The words break her.</p><p>Everything they could've had, everything their lives could've been, gone. He <em>could've</em> been happy, they could've both been happy. And now, instead, what are they?</p><p>Before she knows it, he’s pulled her onto him and she’s sobbing into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her.</p><p>“I miss him so much.”</p><p>It's muffled by his neck but he nods.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“I hated you for so long.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Her body wracks against his.</p><p>“It still hurts so, so much.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>The first time he comes home hurt, it feels like a novelty.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Panic, keep him awake, call his sister, watch him be patched up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s awful and terrifying, but it feels like a once-off. A clean, fair trade-off for her beautiful apartment with its huge kitchen and her mini garden on the balcony. The last time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s not. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It turns out going off on your own in his line of work means unprecedented danger; attacks from all sides.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He comes home shot, beaten up or stabbed so many times that she half-jokingly asks his nurse sister to move in with them. It happens so many times that she can’t sleep till he’s home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She and Annie watch movies till late into the night. She curls her sister into her body like they’d used to do when they were younger, Sadie hugged into Annie’s body, pressing her up against her stomach. Against Marcus. All – almost all – the people she loves most in the world safe in her arms until he gets here, too, and then she can go to sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They get into one or two fights about it but that only makes her feel worse, physically and mentally, so she begins to internalise it all instead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She bakes a lot more. It’s rare that Rio doesn’t come home to three dozen cupcakes, which he calls a good opportunity for marketing because it's better than telling her she should stop. He knows she can’t. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it is, actually. She starts getting more and more custom work, but even being paid for her efforts doesn’t help. And it doesn’t make it stop. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One night he comes in looking fine then ten minutes later she hears him retching. She finds him in the bathroom with the toilet covered in blood. Her stomach aches for the entire ambulance ride, not least because he’s not talking to her, furious she’d called 911. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She feels so trapped. How can she stop this? What can she do? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s only one way she can think of – and how can she ask him to stop when she knows better than anyone that he’s working so hard to get everything he’s ever dreamed of? When she’d said from the beginning that she was fine with what he did? When that’s why he’d kissed her?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In their fights he’d said this is normal, that it’s going to take a while for him to earn the respect he’s due. She believes that, but she doesn’t know if he’s going survive that long. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Asking him if he wants to live long enough to meet his son just makes him angry and abrasive, though. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They barely talk anymore – he’ll come in through the door, she’ll wrap her arms around him to tell her body he’s safe, and then she goes to bed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until one night he doesn’t go to work, skipping it to climb into bed with her. He holds her all the way against him and they talk again like they used to. She whispers her fears into his collarbone and he caresses her hair and tells her it’s all going to be ok. He’s indestructible, he promises.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She believes him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth wakes from a nap hungry and a bit woozy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s either hungry or tired a hundred percent of the time now and she climbs off the bed with a moan of complaint. Normally Rio’s around to get her something. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she hears voices coming from the kitchen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This is my place.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I get that—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And Sadie ain’t even home, so what’s the problem?”</em>
</p><p><em>“The </em>problem<em>, gangfriend, is that—”</em></p><p>
  <em>“What’s going on?” Beth frowns. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Annie and Rio are standing in the kitchen, her sister’s expression weirdly antagonistic considering who she’s talking to. Rio is Annie’s favourite thing since sliced bread, with the added bonus of having gotten them an amazing new place. There’s nothing she likes better than calling him Beth’s whipping boy when he makes her a sandwich without complaint or goes out in the middle of the night to buy whatever she’s craving. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They both turn to look at her before Annie shoots Rio a smug smile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Still don’t know what the problem is?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth’s frown only deepens, but then her eyes start closing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s wrong, momma?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Beth, are you ok?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” she waves a hand. “Just some back cramps.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What kind of back cramps?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Annie sounds concerned but Beth can’t tell with her eyes closed as she reaches for her own back. Holy shit, why does it hurt so much?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yo, can I get somethin to drink or somethin?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth’s eyes snap open at this unfamiliar voice and find Rio and her sister both halfway to her, frozen in horror. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She turns around to see who they’re looking at and it’s a man with tattoos everywhere, piercing blue eyes and black hair, and a bloodied bandage over his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eddie, go back into the room,” Rio barks out. </em>
</p><p><em>And before Beth can ask who the hell </em>Eddie<em> is, she feels something wet between her legs.</em></p><hr/><p>His arms tighten around her, hold her up, and somehow it hurts more because he's here now but for so long he hadn't been.</p><p>“I lost you both,” she sobs out. "I lost him and you left and I had nothing."</p><p>“You made me leave,” he says, voice quiet.</p><p>“What else was I supposed to do??”</p><p>He sighs, long and heavy.</p><p>“I dunno.”</p><p>Her fingers curl into his body – maybe to anchor her; maybe to make him feel a fraction of the pain she does.</p><p>“Please, just... Just tell me you hurt, too,” she sniffs, face soaked. "Tell me I'm not the only one with a hole inside of me."</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“You should go in there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Annie—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she shakes her head firmly. “Just. Go in there.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio bites back his tongue to nod, passing Elizabeth’s sister and shutting the hospital room door behind him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes light up when she sees him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Rio.” She looks around wildly. “Tell them they made a mistake.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Elizabeth—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Our baby’s alive, I know he is. I know he is. Go tell them.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. He doesn’t know how to do this. None of it. None of it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Losing the kid makes him wanna kneel in front of a toilet and just hurl till there’s nothin left inside him, till the hole makes sense; till the emptiness is everywhere and not just in his gut, threatening to fold him in half.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But, fuck. Seeing her like this makes him wanna stick a barrel inside his mouth. Shit. Shit. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is all his fault. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I can’t tell em,” he shakes his head, getting closer. “It ain’t true, mami. I’m sorry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now he can get a good look at her under the harsh hospital lights and it shakes him more than anythin. Her eyes are so damn blown, she’s gotta be on somethin. Right?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean? Marcus…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. Tears sting at his eyes at his name. Their son. Their son.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s gone,” he says, voice cracking. </em>
</p><p><em>“No,” she shakes her head. “He’s alive, you know he is. You can feel it, just like I can. </em>Feel it!”</p><p>
  <em>She forces his hand onto her stomach and he tastes salt on his lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The stress and the— everythin I put you through, it was too much and—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no,” she shakes her head vehemently. “Stop.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m so sorry, mami, I’m so, so sorry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please don’t.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls her to his chest and then both their bodies are wracking as her fingers dig into him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Marcus,” she cries over and over and he thinks he’ll hear it to his dying day. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eventually he finds it in him to pull himself together and, with a long breath, he rubs over her hair. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We gonna get through this together, I promise you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She stops. Looks up at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It sends a shiver through him, there's somethin about it, but he jerks a nod anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then her mouth falls open.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>You're <em>the one who</em> <em>did this</em><em>, you just said it!”</em></p><p>
  <em>She screeches it and before he can think to react, she starts hitting him, pounding at his chest with hard fists. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“YOU KILLED MY BABY, YOU KILLED MY BABY!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wants her to hit even harder, to strike and strike until the pain outside is all he can feel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then nurses are rushing in, dragging her off him and readying a syringe. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Another pulls him, makes him turn away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t take it to heart. It’s very common for the mother to blame the father, it’s just misplaced pain.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it ain’t. It ain’t.</em>
</p><hr/><p>“Demon had me on suicide watch for six weeks.”</p><p>It shakes her to her core, her entire body ripping a whole step away from him.</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>“You—"</p><p>“Twice.” Mouth twisting, he looks away. “Other times were different – rushin into shit half-cocked, pickin stupid fights, makin myself a target.”</p><p>“Oh my god.”</p><p>She’d blamed him and he’d nearly killed himself. Twice. Had gone out looking for other people to kill him.</p><p>She’d been a zombie – they’d had to move in with Ruby and for weeks she’d just laid there, her best friend force-feeding her soup every few days – but she’d never tried to take her own life.</p><p>And all she’d felt for him was hatred. She hadn’t let him come to the funeral, threatening to tell everyone in his family what he’d done to her. And she’d said so many awful things to him when she'd forced him to go.</p><p>
  <em>You said you were indestructible and you were right – but you know who wasn't, Rio? Our son.</em>
</p><p>And the whole time…</p><p>“Rio, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Tears have started falling again and through them she watches him shake his head.</p><p>“You don’t got nothin to be sorry for.”</p><p>“You loved him. And I acted like I was the only one who lost him.”</p><p>Now he looks back at her, gaze flitting to her stomach.</p><p>“You carried him. For weeks. You kept him alive while I did my best to kill him—”</p><p>She cuts him off with a hand on his chest.</p><p>“You didn’t kill him.”</p><p>“I did, you know I did—”</p><p>“No. No.” Grabbing his hand, she presses it to her stomach. “You didn’t. I was wrong and it took me so long to see that, but I was. We just weren’t ready for him, ok?” She swallows hard. “We were never meant to meet him. You didn’t kill him. Say it.”</p><p>But his eyes meet hers and she knows he can’t. So she presses forward to catch his body with hers as he collapses onto himself, buries his head into her shoulder.</p><p>“God, I’m so sorry, Rio.”</p><p>Why had they both walked around with all this pain for so long? Why had she spent years and years flaying herself to find some small kind of peace when this was what she really needed? Why had she pushed him away when he was the one person who understood?</p><p>After a while they both stop crying and they just hold each other, tightly, till she thinks they may be engraved onto one another. As if they weren’t already.</p><p>Finally, when her limbs are beginning to go numb, she pulls away, and he reluctantly lets her.</p><p>It's funny, she'd forgotten how cold it is to know the warmth of his body pressed to hers.</p><p>But, catching sight of herself in the mirror, she gasps in horror.</p><p>“I look terrible.”</p><p>She says it more to herself than anything, but he shakes his head.</p><p>“You’re beautiful.”</p><p>A blush rises with a smile even as she takes in his soaking wet shirt.</p><p>“You should probably change – that isn’t only tears.”</p><p>He sniffs out a laugh before straightening with a nod.</p><p>He squeezes at her arm, about to exit the bathroom, but on impulse she catches him, placing a hand on his.</p><p>His eyes are wide when they meet hers.</p><p>“You would’ve been an incredible father, Rio. I know that more than I know anything in this world.”</p><p>She takes a long, deep breath before saying the rest. Before unearthing the truth from so far inside that it smarts even as it sets her free.</p><p>“Dean wanted them so much and I kept finding all these different excuses why not. But I think I didn’t want to have kids because, deep down, I knew I still wanted yours.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So here's what happened. I was struggling so much with this story (canon having been what it's been) and then all at once I suddenly started having so much fun writing these two happy in some past life that I completely blew past the length this chapter was supposed to be and have had to split it into two. Ahem, whoops. So the <em>next</em> chapter will be the last one, heh.</p><p>I really hope you guys enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The forgiveness seems to shimmer in the air.</p><p>It’s all they can do to see it, to breathe it in, because even after everything, she still <em>wants him</em>. That has never gone anywhere, and it makes no sense.</p><p>She sees that in his eyes, the confusion.</p><p>But then she jerks her chin a little, nearly imperceptibly, and it breaks.</p><p>His mouth slants over hers, hot, and Beth lets out a moan. He’s always been an extraordinary kisser but he’s better now, or maybe <em>it’s </em>better now; this. Everything they know, now; everything they’ve shared. Their bodies so acquainted yet so different in a myriad of ways.</p><p>The kiss is frenzied, burning, and soon it’s all she can do to let whimpers spill from her as he attacks her mouth, nipping at her lips and pushing her backward. Then he’s kissing down the column of her neck and burying his face in her breasts, lapping at them like he’ll die if he stops.</p><p>Her back hits the door and, finally feeling some sort of steadiness, she reaches for him. Starts undoing buttons on his shirt even as he pulls her dress and bra down to get at her nipples, swirl them into his mouth.</p><p>She moans loudly, shaking.</p><p>“God, Rio.”</p><p>She’s forgotten how good sex can be, how electrifying. How he, specifically, has always made her feel lit on fire from her toes to her scalp.</p><p>Her fingers have forgotten their task, just digging into him as he licks and sucks.</p><p>Then suddenly he growls.</p><p>“I need you naked.”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” she breathes, thankful.</p><p>She twists to open the door and he’s right behind as they spill out into the bedroom. He spins her instantly, getting his lips back on hers, and she wraps her arms around him as his hands feel around for the zipper. It’s underneath her arm, and he gets it and the hook above it undone in record time.</p><p>It makes her stop; stumble a step back.</p><p>He must read her expression because his brow jumps up.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You never used to be that good at that.”</p><p>It strikes her somewhere deep that he’s been with many more women since her; that they’ve gotten to have him this way, that he’s made them feel the way he’s always made her feel.</p><p>“What, you jealous?”</p><p>She sniffs.</p><p>“What if I am?”</p><p>“You know <em>you</em> got <em>married</em>, right?”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>It doesn’t feel like the same thing – she and Dean had never been <em>like that</em>. With Rio, sex had always been the way they got closer, the main event. With Dean, sex had been that thing she had to do ten minutes before bed.</p><p>But, of course, he doesn’t know that.</p><p>“So what, are you jealous?” she teases.</p><p>He smirks, but his eyes are serious.</p><p>“Yeah, maybe.”</p><p>“Ok, I’ll make it up to you.”</p><p>He looks intrigued and she twists them around so she can push him a little, making him sit on the bed. Then she lifts her dress up and over her head, which is supposed to be sexy, but it’s so huge and billowy that she’s sure it looks like she’s fighting with it until, finally, it drops at her feet.</p><p>She huffs the hair out of her face and Rio looks like he’s about to burst into laughter.</p><p>“Don’t you dare laugh.”</p><p>He doesn’t, but he still looks very amused.</p><p>“You've always been so fuckin bad at seducing me.”</p><p>She gasps, affronted by the unjustness of this.</p><p>“That's because you never give me a chance to.”</p><p>His smirk is less amused now, more curious.</p><p>“A’ight,” he shrugs, “so here’s your chance, then.”</p><p>It’s a lot of pressure but it excites her, too. Stepping forward, she takes in every inch of him.</p><p>The shirt cuts him so well and she wants to scrape her fingers down his beard, but first. His tattoo. She undoes the first few buttons on his shirt then settles onto his lap, knees bracketing his body, before kissing into his neck. He hums a little and it slowly grows rougher, more guttural, as she passes her mouth over the bird’s beak, sucking a little.</p><p>He hisses, fingers digging into her, but doesn’t move otherwise. She smiles. He’s definitely gotten a lot more patient.</p><p>Slowly she undoes the rest of his buttons then feels over his chest. He’s a little less wiry than he’d been then, more filled out, but still all toned muscle that feels familiar under her hands. They go behind him and she nearly jolts when her fingers touch metal.</p><p>“Oh.”    </p><p>Right.</p><p>“Yeah,” he smiles against her cheek.</p><p>She tentatively removes the gun – not that she’s scared, he’d taught her how to use one very soon into their relationship. But it’s been a very, very long time since she’d handled one and it takes her right back to removing it from his waistband every night.</p><p>A lot like this.</p><p>She’s about to set it aside when she catches sight of it and scoffs.</p><p>“Seriously? A gold gun?”</p><p>He looks up at her, eyes sly, and it nearly distracts her from him pulling down the cup of her bra.</p><p>“I got expensive taste.”</p><p>And then he sucks her breast into his mouth and Beth keens into it, mouth falling open with a breath. He circles her nipple with his tongue, <em>tastes </em>her, and she falls away into it, the gun slipping from her grasp. Her head falls back and she finds herself rubbing up against him, trying to find some friction for the ache between her legs.</p><p>Then she remembers.</p><p>“You said I could seduce you.”</p><p>She expects him to say something, find some witty rejoinder, but instead she just feels his fingers slip past her panties then inside her.</p><p>“Oh my god.”</p><p>They press in deeper and she moans again before biting her lip into her mouth, hips moving with the rhythm of his fingers. Her body jolts up when he slides his teeth past her nipple and she realises she can’t stand it anymore.</p><p>“I need you.”</p><p>There’s a wet <em>pop</em> as he releases her, looking up to meet her eyes. There’s a fire in his that makes her throat dry and then, slowly, he lets her off his lap.</p><p>They keep each other’s eyes, Beth swallowing as she watches him press his fingers into his mouth. She takes off her slip then undoes the hooks on her bra and lets it falls to the floor, relishing the way his jaw slackens. It vanquishes any insecurities she’d had about her figure being fuller now than it had been even then.</p><p>She slips her panties off her hips next and Rio rises with a breath, shucking his shirt.</p><p>She notices a new tattoo on his tricep – a big cat of some sort – and then he reaches for his jeans and she sees another addition on the inside of his forearm. It’s tiny and thin, near-invisible, but it stands out to someone who'd once known every inch of his skin.</p><p>It’s in script, too, and it takes her a moment to make it out before she draws a sharp breath. It’s Marcus’ name. The day they’d lost him.</p><p>Her fingers go to it without her permission and he freezes, letting her brush over the finely inked memorial.</p><p>Then her eyes go up to his.</p><p>She wants to say something but her throat feels clogged with emotion, and so for a few seconds they just stand there, staring at each other. Feeling the hurt of their past grow from distance into a tether.</p><p>It binds them so tightly that for a while she feels she can’t move.</p><p>Then, intent, she tips forward to kiss him.</p><p>It takes him a moment, still just as lost in the past, before his lips start to move tenderly against hers. She presses both hands to his neck, bringing them closer, and it only lasts a second longer before he breaks it.</p><p>Their breaths mingle as he looks down at her. There’s something in his eyes.</p><p>Them, too, she used to know implicitly. But now she can’t quite put a label on it; only knows that it makes her smile and feel like everything in the whole world is okay.</p><p>Rio draws a finger up over her lips, feels the line of her smile, before softly brushing a thumb over the top of her cheek.</p><p>“I'm still so damn in love with you.”</p><p>It’s little more than a whisper, but it snuffs the air from her lungs.</p><p>She can’t breathe, can’t speak, but then it doesn’t matter because he’s crashing his lips into hers and now it’s no longer tender. Their breaths come fast, the harsh of his kiss drawing whimpers from her throat as they both go for his pants, hands frenzied till he springs free.</p><p>And <em>oh</em>, she’d forgotten this, too. Undersold him in her memory.</p><p>“Rio,” she moans against his lips, wrapping her hand around him.</p><p>He grabs her by the waist then twists them around before tossing her onto the bed.</p><p>Looking down her body, Beth wets her lips a little nervously as she takes him in, watching him do the same with her naked body. Then he comes to lay over her, taking her lips with his immediately, and she kisses him back greedily, parting her legs around him.</p><p>He moans then shifts a little so he can root around in the duffel bag on the floor, and it takes her a moment before she realises what he’s looking for.</p><p>No; god, no. She wants to <em>feel</em> him; can’t fathom being separated by even a breath.</p><p>So, catching his arm, she rotates her hips up so he brushes against her slick slit.</p><p>“Please don’t.”</p><p>It comes out as a whimper, breathy and desperate, and she thinks the look in his eyes may incinerate her.</p><p>“Fuck,” he moans, “you still make me lose my damn mind.”</p><p>And then he’s pressing her further open before entering her, slowly at first then all the way. He’s so goddamn huge and thick, stretching her all the way out. The sounds that come from their throats are animalistic, deafening, just at the sensation of being connected again.</p><p>“Fuuuck, I forgot how good you feel,” he complains into her neck.</p><p>She clenches hard around him at the words and he wraps his palm around her breast with a long moan.</p><p>“Rio,” she breathes out his name.</p><p>He crashes his lips against hers, tongue hot and taking as he reaches to wrap her legs around him more securely.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” she moans into his mouth.</p><p>He pulls back, finding a grip in the sheet before thrusting into her so harshly that she tosses her head back, eyes pressed tight as she calls out. Her fingers dig into his biceps as he pulls out then presses back in, starting a rhythm that feels like it’s going to rip her apart, nerve from nerve.</p><p>She forgot how <em>good </em>they are together, how there’s nothing in the world like it.</p><p>“Rio,” she gasps. “More, please.”</p><p>How she can ask for anything and he’ll give it to her. His thumb finds her clit and she’s not ready yet but it feels rapturous, she can’t make him stop. His hips quicken as his thumb ramps its steady pressure and her body starts to wind up, a spring inside compressing tighter and tighter.</p><p>Her body’s moving with his, breasts jumping, and her eyes open to see him watching, lip tucked into his mouth in a mix of lust and concentration.</p><p>It snaps. She comes apart from somewhere deep inside, hips beginning to tremble, and Rio capitalises on it, rubbing her harder until it snowballs, stars dotting across her vision that makes her body shake uncontrollably. She hears the <em>god yes </em>come from her own mouth as if from far away, feels her body milk him by itself. It’s like she sees it from above as he murmurs an expletive into her neck, coming to a hard stop before collapsing on top of her.</p><p>But then she comes back to feel the weight of his body on top of hers, to breathe in the clean scent of his skin, to feel him warm inside her and down her thighs. It all feels so good, so familiar, so perfect. Together, they always have been.</p><p>“Rio,” she says, voice tinkly, “kiss me.”</p><p>And he’s still out of breath but, turning his head, he does.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Beth looks up from the pregnancy magazine she’s reading as Rio enters the room. </em>
</p><p><em>She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed with a frown basically etched onto her face. Realisation has hit that there are about a million things they haven’t thought about yet and then a million more things she </em>has<em> thought about, but apparently not enough.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Do you think I should breastfeed?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio’s approach stutters before he frowns too, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ain’t that like a you decision?”</em>
</p><p><em>She rolls her eyes. “I’m asking you what </em>you think<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>He looks away so he can stare off into the distance for a good few seconds, eyes squinting, before returning to her with a long exhale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Y’know, I can’t really say I got an opinion either way?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m trying to include you,” she whines.</em>
</p><p><em>“Can’t you include me in the fun stuff?” Then, about half a second from receiving a glare: “</em>Not<em> that stuff ain’t fun. But, like, </em>funner<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>She purses her lips but then decides to let it go.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shrugs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like what kinda sport he’s gonna play or—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What school he’ll go to?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sighs. “Sure.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t wanna go private, they’re stuffy and too expensive.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Agreed. Alright,” he comes to lie next to her, propped up on his elbows, “my kid’s hoopin. Soccer if they wanna.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shifting to lie on her back, she turns to look at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Religion?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t care, but my mom might.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine. Catholic baptism. First party?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“One,” he allows. “But then not again till he can remember it – like, five.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Agreed. But I can still make cupcakes every year, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Honey, you make cupcakes when it’s Tuesday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She giggles and he kisses her with a smile of his own. She pulls him down closer, moaning quietly, and he’s busy pressing her hair away with one hand while the other roams her body when suddenly there’s a harsh knock on their bedroom door, followed swiftly by it being thrown open. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio jumps off her then glares at her sister, who’s already barrelling towards them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s going on in here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grinning, she hops onto the bed before wiggling her way between them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio sighs heavily then levels her with a look. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Guessing it’s Sadie’s nap time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Actually, Gregg took her to the park.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You couldn’t have gone with them?” Beth sighs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ew. No.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Annie, you have to stop avoiding him for no reason.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If you must know, I kind of… kissed him at the last dropoff.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“WHAT?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ok, if there’s anyone to blame here, it’s you. Do you know how difficult it is to live with lovebirds?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Clearly not difficult enough if you can just burst in here,” Rio grumbles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But he finally lets himself relax so they’re all three lying on their backs staring up at the ceiling. </em>
</p><p><em>“It’s not </em>my<em> fault you guys are, like, </em>always<em> having sex.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“And it ain’t my fault you dunno how to be alone wit’ your bad decisions.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Also, we weren’t having sex,” Beth points out with a scoff.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks to you,” she hears Rio mumble under his breath. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She bites back a smile. </em>
</p><p><em>“First of all, my bad decisions have a lot of company, they’re never alone. And secondly, I get it, ok? It’s a Marks woman thing. If you’re not hungry or sleeping, you want to be getting it on. My first trimester, I was </em>open for business<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Oh my god,” Beth starts gagging. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please get out of our bedroom.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Speaking of Marks,” Annie ignores him smoothly, “when are you two tying the knot?”</em>
</p><p><em>Annie is shorter than them so, turning to him, she mouths </em>I’m sorry<em> at Rio. He shakes his head in irritation and she takes a breath. </em></p><p>
  <em>“We were thinking when Marcus is a year or so. He can be the ring bearer,” she smiles, already imagining a tiny Rio wobbling down the aisle with the cushion.</em>
</p><p><em>“Oh, so you guys </em>have<em> thought about this,” Annie whistles, impressed. “Nice going, gangfriend,” she elbows him. </em></p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t look pleased by this but manages a reply, meeting Beth’s eyes again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, we gon’ do it up real nice, no rush.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She wants to wrap her hand in his but, short of going over Annie, there isn’t really any way to. She can tell from his eyes that he’s just as excited imagining it as she is, though. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He hasn’t proposed yet and it’s been driving Beth crazy recently trying to figure out when he’s going to do it. Will he wait till after Marcus is born? It’s definitely going to be the topic at the next girls’ night when Rio’s out working. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she’s excited, not anxious. Every time he talks about their wedding or marriage, it’s so clear-cut in his mind. A part of his plan. A part of their future. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once, at a doctor’s appointment, he’d called her his wife and it had left her glowing for the whole day.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And I’m the maid of honour, right? No offence, Rio, but your sisters are haters. Also, have you given cousin Lorenzo my number yet?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before an actual brawl can break out, Beth forces a long and very loud yawn. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nap time.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ooh, I could do with a nap!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And before she can say anything, her sister’s settling onto her, rubbing her holey-socked feet up against Beth’s legs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio rolls his eyes and gets off the bed. For a second she thinks he’ll leave, but he just comes around to her side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smiles as he settles beside her, wrapping his arm around her so she can turn her face into his warm chest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Annie seems to steal her sigh of happiness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why don’t I sleep here all the time? Your bed’s definitely better than mine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“’Cuz I’d murder you,” Rio growls. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, yeah.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beth smiles against his t-shirt, but Annie isn’t done.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Could you get Lorenzo to do it? With his d—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Annie, I swear to god, I will have Rio carry you out of here if you don’t stop talking.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This results in several grumbles and a lot of readjusting but, after a few minutes, she settles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And after a while, cuddled together, all three of them fall asleep.</em>
</p><hr/><p>They’re looking at each other, really looking.</p><p>It’s unconscionable how beautiful he is even up close, even so many years later.</p><p>“Do you remember the good times?” she finds herself asking.</p><p>He nods. “Every day.”</p><p>There’s a wistfulness in his eyes, a gravity in his tone, and it unsettles something in the bottom of her stomach.</p><p>“I hate that you aren’t happy.”</p><p>
  <em>So I seem happy to you, huh? Guess that means I got everyone good and fooled.</em>
</p><p>His eyes are lasers.</p><p>“Are you?”</p><p>And now the pit grows deeper as she blinks, long and slow.</p><p>“No. But I tried to find it. That’s why I got married.”</p><p>“Hmm,” he acknowledges, shifting over to lie on his back.</p><p>She waits and, after a moment, he casts a glance back at her.</p><p>“I already knew I’d had it as good as I was gonna get it.”</p><p>It’s breath-taking and a condemnation at once, but she swallows; shakes her head.</p><p>“I realised that about one year in.”</p><p><em>I wasn’t happy without you either</em>, she hopes it says.</p><p>He watches her for a long moment before looking away.</p><p>“How long’d it last?”</p><p>“Three.”</p><p>And in her mind she unwraps each; takes them apart in the light of <em>him</em>.</p><p>Because by the time she and Dean had gotten together, she’d already done the gruelling work of finding the deepest darkest corner of her mind to tuck Rio away in. She never compared one to the other, never thought about him if she could help it. Not but for a second here or there when she’d see a stranger with a prominent tattoo or hear a laugh that felt like warm honey down your back.</p><p>So why two more years?</p><p>Because her realisation had taken her to a different conclusion – if she’d already had it as good as she was going to get it, why try looking for something that would only end up being just as disappointing?</p><p>“I guess I wasn’t really that shocked by the cheating,” she admits, eyes downcast. “I was just… surprised. That he wasn’t happy, either.”</p><p>There’s a long silence, heavy, and it feels like twelve years unravelling. Time lost; time spent wishing they could go back.</p><p>Rio lets out a heavy breath as he turns back onto his side so they’re close again, his face inches from hers</p><p>“This shouldn’ta been our lives. If I could go back and change it all, I would, mami. I’d quit the day I met you.”</p><p>It means so much, too much; she has to draw her eyes from his, going to pull the sheet up closer around herself instead.</p><p>“You could be nicer asking me to move over, too,” she tries lightening the moment.</p><p>He snorts. </p><p>“It’s funny. There were like five other seats I coulda gone for.”</p><p>This comes as a surprise – she’d been so instantly wrapped up in him that she hadn’t even thought to send him looking for a different seat.</p><p>“So why did you choose mine?”</p><p>“Wanted to look down your top.”</p><p>“Rio!” she gasps, shoving at him.</p><p>He grins. “I was like twenty, what did ya want from me?”</p><p>She smiles too, shaking her head in dismay. But her thoughts have already become more sombre.</p><p>“You’re different now.”</p><p>“Yeah?” When she nods: “How?”</p><p>“I don’t know, there’s… something in your eyes I don’t recognise.”</p><p>His sigh is heavy. “Life’ll do that to ya.”</p><p>“You never used to frown this much.”</p><p>This he shrugs off more easily.</p><p>“I never used to be the boss.”</p><p>No. Then he’d still been fighting for it, tooth and nail.</p><p>But it’s more than that.</p><p>“…I never felt like you were this mysterious question mark keeping secrets from me.”</p><p>He watches her for a moment and she wonders whether he’s reading what she’s feeling. The fear that there is too much there, that too much has changed. That the unknowability is knotted into his skin and bones, now; that they can never go back.</p><p>His lips twist.</p><p>“When you get to my level, there ain’t nothin you can’t play close to your chest.”</p><p>She stares back at him.</p><p>“It sounds lonely.” Then, softer: “I’d know.”</p><p>
  <em>Not that you normally share a lot about yourself, but I respect that you’re really private.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah?” he pops a brow, tone teasing. “You got a criminal empire under your belt?”</p><p>She smiles in spite of herself; has forgotten how proficient he’d always been at breaking her away from her darker thoughts.</p><p>“What, you didn’t know?” she retorts. “You thought that was an arts and crafts store I work at? It’s <em>clearly</em> a front.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah? Whatchu runnin?”</p><p>“Oh, everything.”</p><p>They laugh for a while but eventually, slowly, the smiles slip from their faces.</p><p>Rio catches the last of hers with a thumb on her lip, brushing lightly along.</p><p>“You used to smile more.”</p><p>She meets his eyes, sorrow rising from deep within her.</p><p>“Life will do that to you.”</p><p>And again he watches her for a moment then slowly nods, eyes full of something he’ll never say. Then he reaches forward and uses a single finger to push the hair out of her face.</p><p>She waits for him to finish, waits for the soft end to this way he has of saying what doesn’t make it into words.</p><p>It had been so rare, then. The night he’d crawled into bed after their biggest argument about Dean. The day after he’d first been shot and she’d brought him food, unable to meet his eyes. Before taking away a batch of cupcakes she’d stress-baked when things had gotten really bad.</p><p>But now he’s someone else, someone guarded, and there must be so much more she’d never get to hear him say. A question mark; unknowability – these are what stand guard now where once she’d been so easily let in.</p><p>So she just waits for the moment to pass and its weight to fade, taking its memories with it.</p><p>They are here and now. She doesn’t want to think any more about what that means.</p><p>“Did you get us dessert?”</p><p>He looks relieved with this change of topic before ruffling his nose.</p><p>“They only had like sorbets and shit.”</p><p>“You hate sorbet.”</p><p>He looks really pleased that she’s remembered this, bringing her hand up to lay a kiss in her palm.</p><p>Then his eyes seem to shimmer with an idea.</p><p>“How ’bout you bake us somethin?”</p><p>
  <em>You still bake?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>He’s transparent at the strangest of times, but she doesn’t mind it. It feels right.</p><p>He’d used to call himself her number one customer; would mysteriously appear as soon as something was ready to come out of the oven. Would press his lips to her neck as she iced cookies or tag in to knead dough.</p><p>“What do you want?”</p><p>“Chocolate.”</p><p>She shakes her head with a smile. One thing that hasn’t changed.</p><p>“Ok.”</p><p>She begins the search for her underwear and Rio smirks.</p><p>“There’s a robe in the bathroom.”</p><p>“Oh,” she gasps gratefully.</p><p>Then she realises she has a whole new problem.</p><p>She analyses the distance to the bathroom then shifts her gaze from it to Rio then the – still mostly tucked in – sheet.</p><p>She clears her throat.</p><p>“Could you not… look?”</p><p>He sniffs out a laugh. This had been an ongoing debate at the beginning of their relationship, too; him never understanding how they could do everything they’d just done and then have her be shy about her body.</p><p>“Tell you what – I can say I won’t then do it anyway.”</p><p>She glares but it only makes him grin more before finally she just bites the bullet and goes into the bathroom, ears and chest burning as she feels his gaze on her.</p><p>It’s a cashmere robe, hung on the back of the door, and she envelopes herself inside its super soft depths before stepping back into the bedroom. Rio’s up now, too, pulling on a pair of track pants.</p><p>It makes her smile as she does up the belt on the robe, and of course he catches her.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It's just, you look more like the old you now.” She points. “You used to live in those.”</p><p>“Yeah, but back then they didn't cost $200.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes.</p><p>“Annie's definitely going to call you boujee.”</p><p>He laughs. “She's called me worse.”</p><p>“True.”</p><p>And her smile is still there but his has dropped as he stares at her, eyes drawn guarded with something that makes her wish, for the umpteenth time tonight, that she were still as good at reading him.</p><p>But if she had to take a guess, she’d call it… despair.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Shaking his head, he turns away.</p><p>“Nothin.”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“Rio.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She prods at his shoulder none too gently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One eye slips open and she speaks immediately.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m hungry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s one of the very few things that stops him from getting instantly grumpy when woken and it works like a charm now. He brings a hand over his face then swallows a few times before swinging his legs off the bed. He looks around for his underwear, apparently still too half-asleep to remember that Annie’s away for the weekend, and it’s when he’s made it to the door that he turns back to look at her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do you want?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anything,” she shrugs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s no craving, just an empty cavern that needs filling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He raises a brow. “F’real?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She nods in assurance and he goes out into the kitchen as she sits up in bed, turning on the lamp in the early-morning dark. She’s just gotten comfy when her stomach grumbles loudly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Daddy’s bringing food, buddy,” she pats her belly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She hears the microwave go off and a few seconds later, Rio’s back with a tray topped with a steaming bowl of leftover chilli con carne and a bunch of nacho chips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sits the plate on her lap before laying a kiss on her forehead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anythin else?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it’s just as he asks the question that the craving hits, instant and hard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Will you make me cocoa?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She wiggles her toes happily when he smiles, nodding.</em>
</p><p><em>“Knew there had to be </em>somethin<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Extra chocolatey, please.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s halfway through the chilli when he returns with a huge mug of cocoa that makes her mouth drool before he’s even all the way into the room with it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You wanna watch sum’n?” he asks, jerking his head at the TV. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Usually they’ll watch reality TV together as she finishes eating, but she’s not in the mood now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shakes her head and he climbs back into bed with her, setting the cocoa on her tray before re-adjusting his pillows so he can look up at her comfortably. There are tiny marshmallows on top of her cocoa, which crawls into her heart almost as much as the way he slips a hand behind the tray to settle over her stomach. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I went to meet up with that first-time mom group yesterday,” she says. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They hadn’t had much time to catch up last night – he’d gotten home late and she’d barely let him finish dinner before dragging him to their bedroom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah? How was it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Strange.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She can feel his eyes on her even as she continues eating, biting into a chip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How so?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know, I guess I just… found it difficult to relate.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Like to what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her exhale is heavy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s difficult to describe. They just seemed so… normal.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She holds out the spoon and Rio hesitates then takes the bite.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did you find out if you were free tonight?” she asks as he chews.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knows better by now than to interrupt wherever the scramble of her brain takes her – if she doesn’t say it immediately, she may never remember it again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Remind me what for?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We’re babysitting.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s tonight?”</em>
</p><p><em>“You know </em>you <em>don’t get to have pregnancy brain, right?”</em></p><p>
  <em>He sighs apologetically, eyes tired. “It’s been a week.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a good week. Every night he seems some new variation on exhausted. Yet still he refuses for her to go get her own food in the middle of the night. He says it’s good practice for when Marcus gets here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh, I got a meeting at four. But after that, I’m free.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ok, I can get Sara, then. Stan and Ruby’s reservation is for six.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Naw, I can swing by after.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She frowns. “Are you sure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, we can get ice cream.” Off her look: “What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re not taking seriously what they said, are you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’d they say?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That this can be like a trial run for us.” She giggles when he rolls away with a groan. “It’s cute how nervous you are.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I ain’t nervous!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If you say so,” she teases. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Drink your cocoa,” he grumbles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She giggles but does, relishing in the comforting chocolatey heat of it, before passing the mug to him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stares at her over the rim as he takes a sip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So you wanna tell me ’bout your mama group?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She sighs as he passes the mug back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It wasn’t all bad,” she admits. “We went around and spoke about the maternal shadow over our heads. Turns out the fear that you’re going to be – even – worse than your mother is universal.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You worry about that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She doesn’t meet his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gets closer again and her eyes dart down when he tangles his fingers with hers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You know you already raised your sister and you’re like her kid’s second mama, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, but this feels different.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d always felt a keen sense of responsibility for both Annie and Sadie – but now that there’s an actual human being inside her, she’s realised just how potent that feeling can be. Like this time the onus is on her and her alone. Anything that happens to him, it’ll be her fault.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, this time you ain’t alone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio squeezes at her hand and she smiles, squeezing back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Right. He’s not her dad. He’s not going anywhere. He’d promised.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Still. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t think I’ll go again. To the group.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How come?” he frowns. “What was the bad?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shrugs. “I just feel like we’re coming from different places. Like, Rainbow was saying—”</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Rainbow<em>?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I know. She’s naming her kid Rosehip.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“’Course she is,” he scoffs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, she was saying that her husband wants to do skin to skin after the birth too and how she doesn’t really want to share it, and we went around talking about it for twenty minutes.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Do </em>you <em>wanna do skin to skin?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Maybe. I don’t know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So ain’t it good to hear ’bout that kinda shit so you can figure it out?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, but…” She sighs heavily, struggling to verbalise the disassociation she’d felt. The isolation. “It’s just that we’re supposed to talk about our worries, but it suddenly occurred to me that I can’t really talk about mine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s a longer pause as he seems to absorb this. Seems to figure out that he’s the reason for that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You could talk to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s different,” she shakes her head, a little irritable. Then she huffs out a breath. “Who’s that new girl Demon’s seeing?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His frown is deep as he clearly tries to catch up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh… Angie?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes,” she snaps her fingers, remembering. “We saw her at the market yesterday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stares.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ok.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She didn’t say hi.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And you care about this, why?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, Annie says if you’re the boss now then I should get to know the other women. She says I’m head wife.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He snorts in derisive amusement. “Yeah, this ain’t the mob. And, ’sides, knowin Demon, there ain’t no need to get attached.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She glares. He’s always mean about Demon’s failed relationships.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s had some bad luck. That doesn’t mean he can’t find The One.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, Angie ain’t it,” he rolls his eyes. “You wanna stop changin the topic now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lets out a long sigh into the mug as she finishes the last of the cocoa, trying to buy herself time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She doesn’t want to bring up what had happened two weeks ago, when he’d come home barely holding himself together and his sister had had to rush over to patch him up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They haven’t really talked about it, which Beth is fine with because it had been a one-time thing, that’s all. What’s there to talk about when it won’t happen again?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet, still, there’s a swirling panic in her stomach that lies barely dormant at all times. She’s gotten good at ignoring it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. </em>
</p><p><em>“The life we live isn’t normal, I get that. I’m </em>ok <em>with that,” she assures. “But I can’t act like I’m the same as everyone else at brunch when someone asks me what my boyfriend does and I wonder whether they’re wearing a wire.”</em></p><p>
  <em>She waits a second before meeting his eyes, where there’s a sense of unease.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t give a damn ’bout the group, ma. But if you out here feelin some type o’ way then that’s an issue.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sucking in a breath, she looks away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s dealing with too much for her to put this on him, too. She just needs to find a way to be ok with it. Really ok with it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s just still all new to me,” she offers a hapless smile.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which isn’t completely untrue. They’d practically moved in here overnight, meaning adjusting to their new place – not to mention living together – is running concurrent to him setting up his business.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I get it,” Rio nods. “Lot of it’s new to me, too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Taking a breath, she sets her tray atop the bedside table then shifts lower so they’re on the same eye level.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I just want to know our future is safe. If I know that, nothing else matters.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that – god, that’s the truest thing she’s said so far. The life he has for them in his mind is everything she wants. And she believes in him, so much so that she’s allowed herself to hope for it, too. To see a clear image instead of the haze she’d always had there before him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s given her hope, not just for her but for her family too, and for that she’ll happily be the only one in the mommy group who knows the weight of a full clip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio reaches out to caress her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You trust me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She nods. “You know I do.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Every day I walk outta here, our future’s all that’s on my mind. Nothin else matters to me neither.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s not a surprise but it still settles warmly in her chest, a reassurance. It’s been hard for them to get time alone to talk – he doesn’t exactly work normal business hours. Sometimes he’s just getting home when she wakes up for her snack, and then they’re both too exhausted to do much more than hold each other with The Real Housewives on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not to mention the presence of Annie and Sadie when he does get to be home with her. Couch nights are family nights, and she’s far too horny all the time now to find time in the bedroom for talking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So it’s been a while since she’s heard this, since she’s had a moment to be sure that they’re still working towards the same thing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you, momma. And our kid’s gonna love you so damn much, too.” He pulls her closer, her smile pressing against his chest. “He don’t got no idea how lucky he is, yet; that he got the world’s best mama, group or no group.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God, she loves him. It blooms across her chest anew, overpowering. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing else matters. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you think there’s a first-time mom’s group for mob wives?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He laughs. “Maybe you could start one; head wife and all.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He breaks off her giggles with a long kiss that seems to evolve, grow warmer. As does the feeling between her legs and he seems to feel similarly, beginning to kiss off her negligee’s strap. Her body’s already heating up but she pulls back, flicking her eyes up to his.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Something else most of the women said was that they don’t feel like their husbands are as attracted to them as they used to be.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls a face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s weird.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, you growin a whole person, ain’t it?” he points out, brow raised. “Not warts.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So you’re still gonna want to sleep with me when I’m huge?” she gestures far over her current bump. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So we ain’t considerin this huge, then? It gets bigger?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smacks him in the chest as they both laugh before it devolves into moans as he slides his hand around to her ass and kisses into her neck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How am I gonna stop wantin you when you this fuckin sexy, huh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The words are breathy in her ear and it makes her whimper; start shoving off her panties. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Touch me,” she whispers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Seems like you a fan of skin to skin after all, huh, ma?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then they’re going from giggling to moaning all over again. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And that's a wrap on this story! Thank you guys so much for reading, sending love and just generally being the best ❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beth places the two ramekins into the oven, shuts the door, then steps back.</p><p>She feels oddly accomplished.</p><p>Chocolate fondants are a romantic dessert – and, moreover, <em>their</em> romantic dessert – so she hasn’t made them in… god. Twelve years.</p><p>But she’d still had the recipe memorised. Just like so much else, it had come naturally again.</p><p>She thinks of kissing him, of touching his body, of having him inside her.</p><p>It feels strange and exhilarating to have new memories of these things. To think that they no longer just have to be memories. That so much of the past she’d locked up, never to be opened again, doesn’t have to hurt as much anymore.</p><p>They’d had some incredible sex when she was pregnant, but it had always stung too deep, too tenfold, to think about.</p><p>She looks at him, leaning against the counter, attention on his phone. He’d gotten a text a few minutes ago and hasn’t put it down since. With the fondants in the oven, it gives her time to look at him; take in the miles of golden skin and the various tattoos littering it. The lines of his body, impossibly hard considering his huge sweet tooth. His track pants sitting low on his hips.</p><p>She clears her throat.</p><p>“Work?”</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>“Important?”</p><p>He looks up, waves a hand.</p><p>“Not more than this.”</p><p>But he goes back to it anyway and, looking at him, Beth makes a quick choice. She swipes a finger through the mixing bowl then brings it across his face, leaving a long chocolate smear along his cheekbone.</p><p>He looks up with something in his eyes that makes her shriek, and she takes off running an instant before he gives chase.</p><p>They play chicken around the kitchen island for a few seconds and then she tries to take off into the lounge but she’s not even made it halfway there when he has his arms wrapped around her, lifting her up off the ground.</p><p>She shrieks, wriggling.</p><p>“Mercy!”</p><p>“Uh-uh,” he refuses.</p><p>She giggles as she kicks, trying to get put down, and he relents but doesn’t let go of his hold on her.</p><p>“You don’t want some salmonella too?”</p><p>“You have to eat it to get salmonella,” she points out, wriggling away from where he’s trying to rub his cheek against hers. “And I’m pretty sure you won’t get your deposit back if you get chocolate on this robe!”</p><p>He seems about to counter this when suddenly the oven timer goes off and he releases her instantly. He’s gotten enough venomous lectures about overbaked fondants in the past to know that nothing good comes from holding her up when something’s finished in the oven.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>“Happy birthday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio looks at her in the pitch dark, the lone candle on the cupcake the only thing illuminating her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sighs, closing the door behind him and tossing his keys. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ain’t my birthday no more.”</em>
</p><p><em>That’s true. It’s 2am – he’d left at 4pm, about an hour after </em>just<em> getting home from work. </em></p><p>
  <em>She’d hosted his family for most of the night until it had become very clear that he wasn’t coming, at which point she’d left her sister to entertain them as she went off for a nap. She’d wanted to be awake when he did get home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now she is, and very excited, too. </em>
</p><p><em>“I know you’re tired and probably extra exhausted from dealing with whatever emergency that was – but you should know that I slept from 8 until 1, so Marcus and I are </em>up<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>He never sleeps when they’re awake, so she’s not surprised it clinches the deal, his expression less despondent as he closes the distance between them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The mention of Marcus makes his gaze flick down to her stomach then back up to her face, a smile now set on his. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lays a hand over her belly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, lil guy.” Then, pressing a kiss against her jaw: “Hey, baby.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her eyes flutter for a moment before she smiles up at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Make a wish?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio sniffs out a laugh but dutifully takes the cupcake from her as they move into the kitchen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmm. Can I wish that next year my birthday ain’t a fuckin nightmare?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anything you want. Except for that because, you know, you can’t say it aloud.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He rolls his eyes then looks at her for a long moment before blowing out the candle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She watches him remove it from the cupcake then start unwrapping it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you hungry for food?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She turns the kitchen light onto its dimmest setting then heads to the fridge.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What do we got?” he asks, mouth half-filled with chocolate cupcake.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your mom brought the entire contents of her fridge, your sisters brought the usual and Annie made potato salad.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You make those lil bacon tart things?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smiles sunnily. “I did.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, those.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As she gets a few out, he takes her through what had happened tonight, and by the time he’s done, biting into a tart, he seems a bit better. Lighter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry I left you all alone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watching him eat, she shrugs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s ok. Annie was here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She asleep?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” she nods, getting a bit closer to him so they can lower their voices. “Your presents are over by the TV. I didn’t get you anything because you said you didn’t want anything.”</em>
</p><p><em>She says it lightly, like she hadn’t spent weeks needling him then going back and forth about whether he </em>really<em> didn’t want anything. </em></p><p>
  <em>He’s the kind of person who likes his birthday but only because it assembles all his favourite people; the attention an unfortunate side effect. Last year she’d watched as he sank into the background of the festivities at his mother’s place, playing with the kids and then making jokes with his sister as they did the dishes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d gotten him a watch, then, and he’d been mad because he’d known she couldn’t afford it. So she’d returned it and given him one of her dad’s, instead. Which she’d thought would be too old-timey for him, but he’d been delighted. He wears it on the weekends when they go shopping together and she admires it on his wrist as he pushes the cart around. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rio always gets her something small – enough that she can’t complain about it – yet still extravagant. One year it had been a necklace, which he’d said wasn’t real gold but she’s showered in it multiple times and it’s still good as new. The year after, an expensive bottle of perfume she’d been eyeing. (Since she’d known the price, his rationalisation had been that it was half for him, too.)</em>
</p><p><em>“I </em>do<em> want somethin.”</em></p><p><em>“What??” she gasps, immediately accusational. “</em>What<em>?”</em></p><p>
  <em>He smiles, takes great pleasure from her horror, before coming closer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just to hold you, momma.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She glares but lets him take her into his arms then nuzzles into his neck as he does the same.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They stand like that for a good few minutes, just breathing each other in, before he says anything again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Everythin I do, I do for us; for our kid.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She presses her eyes closed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So then why’s it feel like I ain’t actually here for y’all?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She lets out a little breath against his neck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you it was fine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I shoulda been here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It won’t always be like this.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That’s what she holds onto; what takes her through the darkest moments. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He seems to absorb this, body relaxing a little. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then he moves her hair away from her ear to speak into it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re everything to me, Elizabeth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And, her stomach flipping over, she pulls back from his neck to look up at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She thinks, if she asked him right now to give it all up, he would. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But she knows what he wished for. And she won’t take it from him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m gonna remind you of that at 4am when I wake you to get me food.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He groans. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t you just eat now?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not hungry now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Words I rarely fuckin hear.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She hits him in the stomach, but they laugh together before she pulls back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, since we’re going to be waking up again soon, we should go to bed.”</em>
</p><p><em>There’s a </em>way <em>she says it and he knows it well by now. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Guess you right, it is still my birthday.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She smiles before biting her lip into her mouth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…I was going to wear lingerie.” His brow jumps up and she pinks a little. “But it didn’t fit.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes take in her body for the first time, completely covered up by a pink cotton robe.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>Please<em> tell me you’re naked under that.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Her lip still in her mouth, she nods very slowly. A little growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes lighting up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, we ain’t makin it to bed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shrieks as he attacks her lips, undoing the belt on her robe and pressing her up against the kitchen counter.</em>
</p><hr/><p>There’s a deep sense of contentment in her chest as she looks at the finished fondants.</p><p>They’re perfect, she knows it.</p><p>And it’s been so long since she’s felt this, since something she’d made has resonated within, pride making her want to smile ear to ear.</p><p>She only remembers Rio’s in the kitchen with her when he suddenly comes closer, tucking her hair behind her ear so he can see her face.</p><p>“Why'd you stop baking?”</p><p>God.</p><p>“I don't know,” she says, busying herself with turning the fondants out.</p><p>“Naw.”</p><p><em>Not good enough</em>.</p><p>She sighs.</p><p>“Do you have ice cream?”</p><p>His gaze is heavy on her and after a second she turns to meet it, chin lifted.</p><p>He waits but then lets out a breath, knowing she won’t yield.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>He goes to get it as she thinks over her response.</p><p>By the time it lands on the counter next to her, she still has no way to verbalise it, though. He goes rummaging through drawers to find an ice-cream scoop and she clears her throat.</p><p>“Hot water.”</p><p>“Uh huh, I remember.”</p><p>She wrings her hands as she keeps her eyes trained on the items in front of her.</p><p>Then he sets the scoop down too and she realises her time is up.</p><p>After a second she feels him behind her, almost tentative, but instinctively she presses into him, like it was just yesterday they’d last done this. And when his arms wrap around her, they’re certain; tight.</p><p>It makes her close her eyes; take a long breath that finally rustles up the truth.</p><p>“It just… didn’t feel right anymore.”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t verbalise the <em>Why</em> that hangs in the air between them.</p><p>She bites on her lip, holds it back for just a second.  </p><p>“It felt like it belonged to a different time; a different me.”</p><p>All her big dreams of owning a bakery had been made with him, after all. All the money she’d made had come in when their relationship had been at its toughest.</p><p>Over the years, people had begged her to bake. Dean, who’d known her in her teens, had pled for birthday cakes or treats to take to work. When inviting her to dinner,  friends would ask her to bring dessert. Mostly she’d found a good bakery, but every now and then she’d felt forced and had made a tray of blondies for Sadie’s bake sale or helped Ruby make muffins for the church.</p><p>She’d felt faint, vaguely nauseous, each time. And empty. Like there should be something, <em>someone</em>, in her womb as she sifted flour or measured out sugar. Every batter, each dough, a reminder that, once, things had been better. And worse; so much worse.</p><p>“We should eat these,” she says, moving to dish them ice cream.</p><p>She twists to pass him a plate once she’s done, and he finally relinquishes his hold to take it.</p><p>They meet each other’s eyes for a quick second and then she’s turning back around to get at her own.</p><p>She’s right – they’re perfect. The molten centre comes streaming out when she digs into the fondant and it brings another smile to her face.</p><p>“Damn, that’s good,” he breathes from beside her.</p><p>Her smile brightens even as her cheeks warm, hoping her hair hides it as she takes a bite too.</p><p>It is good. Amazing, actually.</p><p>It’s warm and chocolatey, but she tastes more than that – tastes their first Valentine’s Day, tastes the nights he’d made her cocoa in bed, tastes his lips after every time he’d begged her to bake him something chocolatey.</p><p>It makes her turn and meet his eyes. The contentment grows, spreads like the molten chocolate and flows between them.</p><p>“I think about him all the time,” he says suddenly, voice low.</p><p>It nearly knocks her a step back.</p><p>But otherwise she doesn’t know how to respond, blinking back at him.</p><p>“Drive past a court wit' kids hoopin and I see him there.”</p><p>
  <em>God, how long has it been? Ten years?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Twelve. Three months.</em>
</p><p>For the first time she realises – there’s a reason he’d known exactly.</p><p>Marcus would be twelve.</p><p>“Wonder what he’d be like, y’know?”</p><p>Her head jerks into a nod as she swallows, and it seems to drive him to say more.</p><p>“And I think about that day every year. Never get through it sober.”</p><p>Her glance flicks down to the inked date on his arm.</p><p>Yes. Neither does she.</p><p>“Wanted to call you,” he admits, and her eyes jump back up. “So many damn times.”</p><p>And she knows she should say something, but it’s all she can do to breathe; to know that she hadn’t been the only one feeling the emptiness. To feel the loss of both people she’d loved more than anything.</p><p>“Ain’t no one else I can talk to ’bout him, y’know?”</p><p>Her heart aches.</p><p>Ruby had forced her to talk those first few weeks and so, in the proceeding years, she’d always felt ok to call her best friend when the darkest clouds rolled in.</p><p>But… they’d never spoken about Rio. No. His name had been off limits the minute she’d made him walk out the door, and everyone around her had respected it – to her own demise. Because she’d been able to talk about Marcus but not <em>the three of them</em>, not how her entire life, family and future had vanished in the blink of an eye.</p><p>Even in therapy, she’d lied and said the father had been a one-night stand. A remnant of the protocol of being a gangster’s girlfriend. A protection against having to talk about him; break herself down into even smaller pieces.</p><p>“I wish you’d called,” she finally speaks, voice scratchy.</p><p>He watches her for a long moment then nods.</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>She swallows, hesitating, but then he comes forward too, and their lips meet in the middle.</p><p>The kiss is soft, slow.</p><p>He comes closer to lay a hand in her neck and she sighs against his lips, feeling like maybe this time around it will all be ok. Better.</p><p>Gradually it comes to a lingering stop, and she’s about to pull away when he presses another kiss to her lips.</p><p>It’s firm and lasts a long moment, strange in its chaste intensity.</p><p>And when he pulls away a little, she wants to ask, but he speaks first.</p><p>“You should get back into baking.”</p><p>Taking a breath, she nods.</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>“You need money?”</p><p>It’s so innocuous, and familiar, even – when she’d been heading out to buy Sadie a gift; when she went shopping for Thanksgiving dinner and he’d have to work – but there’s something strange about it, too. Something she can’t put her finger on, something that’s unsettling deep in her stomach.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Clearing her throat, she tells herself it’s just because this offer is for a large amount. Even back then she’d refused to use his money to start her business.</p><p>“I should put the ice cream away.”</p><p>She moves away, grabbing it, and she feels his eyes as she sticks it into the freezer.</p><p>It’s awkward, now. He can read her.</p><p>She tries to dawdle, but there’s really only so long you can spend on putting ice cream into a freezer, so eventually she has no choice but to turn back around.</p><p>“You said you're leaving tomorrow?” she asks, forcing a casual, cheery tone.</p><p>Rio slowly sucks his lip into his mouth, dragging it out, before speaking almost reluctantly.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“When will you be back?”</p><p>He can read her. And, god, turns out she can still read him, too.</p><p>His eyes go dim, filled with that same despair that hadn’t meant <em>nothin</em>. It had meant something then and it means the same thing now.</p><p>“Elizabeth.”</p><p>No. No.</p><p>“I didn’t track you down last night and I ain’t ever gonna.” He sighs. “There’s a reason I never called.”</p><p>That's what had felt so strange; what she hadn't been able to put a name to. Goodbye.</p><p>“You’re just going to go? After everything?”</p><p>Everything they’d admitted; everything she’d released from the recesses of her mind. The way she’d laid herself bare.</p><p>
  <em>I think I didn’t want to have kids because, deep down, I knew I still wanted yours.</em>
</p><p>For his part, he looks pained as he swallows, shaking his head.</p><p>“I still do what I do. It ain’t as crazy no more, but it’s still just as dangerous. I ain’t putting you through that again.”</p><p>
  <em>Marcus…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No. He’s alive, you know he is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The stress and the— everythin I put you through, it was too much.</em>
</p><p>His eyes are hard.</p><p>“I <em>won’t</em>.”</p><p>“But… you said you still loved me.”</p><p><em>In love</em> with her, he’d said he's <em>in love</em> with her. And she feels it, in the way he looks at her and touches her. The same way he always had.</p><p>“I do,” Rio nods, coming closer. “And if I could choose you, I would. But I’m in way too damn deep and this ain't the Boy Scouts. I can't just leave.”</p><p>And in his eyes, she sees the hurt. The truth of what he’s saying.</p><p>
  <em>We couldn’t just go to a restaurant?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t eat out much.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is it too dangerous?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sum’n like that.</em>
</p><p>Who is he, now? Just how big is his operation?</p><p>
  <em>Why are you only in town for the week?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Always comin and going. That’s life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For work?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah.</em>
</p><p>Is it across multiple cities? States?</p><p>That’s bigger than he’d even dreamed of – but his future had always been <em>theirs</em>. She’d been in it. He’d limited himself because he'd wanted a life; wanted a family.</p><p>But instead he’d had twelve years with nothing and no one – lonely; <em>lonely</em> – and he’s always had the ability to switch on a singular focus with his work. Of course he’d overshot. By so much that now there’s no turning back; no in between.</p><p>It hurts – god, it hurts. To know that all along she should’ve made him stop; should’ve made him choose her. And now it’s too late. If only then she’d known that this life would never be everything he’d wanted; that all his dreams coming true would be the end, not the beginning.</p><p>
  <em>You’re not happy?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not even a lil bit.</em>
</p><p>“Rio.”</p><p>But she doesn’t know what else to say – what is there? What can refute his reality?</p><p>“You and me, we'll always be,” he assures.</p><p>He closes the last of the space between them, pressing her back into the fridge.</p><p>“We linked, mami; you the mother of my kid. But I made my bed a real fuckin long time ago.”</p><p>The mention of Marcus makes her throat close up, lip trembling.</p><p>“Please don't do this. Please don't leave me again.”</p><p>“Whatchu want, I don't got to give. I don't got no white picket fence for ya.”</p><p>His face whips away as he stares off for a moment, chewing at whatever he’s about to say next, before he looks back at her.</p><p>“Few weeks ago, one of my top guys got picked up. If I hadn'ta taken care o’ that, they woulda had me in cuffs the next day.”</p><p><em>Taken care of </em>– it's a poignant reminder that this is what he does; what he's capable of.</p><p>But if it never mattered then, why should it now?</p><p>She pushes forward so they're an inch away and she can whisper.</p><p>“You said we'd be at the top together.”</p><p>He sighs.</p><p>“I was wrong.”</p><p>“You said there was nothing we couldn't do together,” she accuses.</p><p>“And I believed it when I said it,” he admits, face twisting. “But we ain't kids no more, mami. This is real life.”</p><p>She hates it. She hates that she wants to refute it but he’s right – she wants a life he can never have. That it might not be better this time. That it might not be him hurt, but him being dragged off in cuffs; that this time her child could make it and only know their father during visitation hours.</p><p>But, god, she can’t let go. She loves him too much.</p><p>“You said I was your future.”</p><p>There's something all across his face and, god, she thinks it's the purest regret she's ever seen.</p><p>“It's the one I wanted.”</p><p>She stands frozen, realising for the first time that there’s a sheen to his eyes.</p><p>They just stare at each other for a long moment then he looks away, rubbing a finger across his nose as he sniffs.</p><p>When he looks back, he seems to have recovered, but he watches her for several seconds that seem to go on forever.</p><p>Can he tell that she’s cracking and breaking all over again on the inside? That she thinks she’ll sob if she speaks; won’t be able to stop?</p><p>His voice is soft when he finally speaks again.</p><p>“You stay. I’ll go.”</p><p>And, she thinks: isn’t that what they always do?</p><p>She stays rooted to her spot as he slowly pulls away, the last of their breaths mingling, and then goes into the bedroom.</p><p>He’s in there for less than a minute before he comes back out holding the duffel bag.</p><p>She hasn't moved a muscle, hasn't stepped away from the solid fridge behind her. And she doesn’t look at him, either; feels cold all over. But he’s in her line of sight again when he reaches the front door.</p><p>Rio reaches for the knob but doesn’t turn it.</p><p>Instead he bends his head down a little, and now her eyes can’t help being drawn to him.</p><p>His jaw is working, some inner war waging.</p><p>But then he finally straightens up again.</p><p>“You’re everything to me, Elizabeth. Always will be.”</p><p>And then he’s gone.</p><hr/><p>Beth moves forward in the line at the pharmacy.</p><p>She’d woken up in Rio’s empty bed this morning realising how goddamn stupid it had been asking him not to use a condom. She’s not on anything, nor has she been for a while – there had never been a reason for it.</p><p>But in the moment all she’d thought about was how it would <em>feel</em>, how she wanted them to be as close as possible.</p><p>And… god. She supposes, in the back of her mind, she’d been expecting them to be together.</p><p>
  <em>I think I didn’t want to have kids because, deep down, I knew I still wanted yours.</em>
</p><p>She’s trying to remember if she’s ever had side effects from Plan B when suddenly somebody bashes into her handbag from behind.</p><p>“Oh my god!” a woman’s voice rings out.</p><p>She turns around to look at the woman, whose eyes are wide, darting between Beth and… a little boy.</p><p>Beth guesses he’s her son, as well as who had just bashed into her.  </p><p>“I’m so sorry,” she says to Beth, breathless with horror. “Carlson, apologise right now.”</p><p>He shrugs. “Sorry.”</p><p>“Go get the juice and then come right back,” she demands, eyes strict.</p><p>The little boy’s eyes light up and then he darts away, down the aisle of pregnancy tests and tissues to get to the fridge.</p><p>“I’m really sorry about that,” his mother apologises yet again.</p><p>Beth smiles.</p><p>“It’s fine, really. He’s adorable.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, that and getting away with everything because of it are what he and his father have in common.”</p><p>They laugh together as they watch Carlson dilly-dally his way back.</p><p>“Is he your only one?”</p><p>“No, just my youngest. By a lot,” she admits, flustered. “He was a bit of a surprise.”</p><p>And, taking her in properly now, Beth realises she’s probably in her forties. With a five-year-old.</p><p>“Any regrets?”</p><p>They watch as Carlson strikes a superhero pose in front of a mirror he’s managed to find.</p><p>“None.” There’s still adoration in her features when she turns back. “What about you, do you have any?”</p><p>Beth swallows hard.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Then, drawing her bag closer, she steps out of the line.</p><p>“But maybe one day soon.”</p>
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